Devils & Gods
by Whedonist
Summary: 9th and last in the AU built around these women.
1. Riddled Savageries

Disclaimer: Nikki & Nora are not mine, but it kinda feels like they are. The characters from the pilot aren't either. BUT - there's a whole lot of original ones that are in this little story so...*yay* for me.

Author's Note (this is gonna be a longish one)

There are a few things to get out of the way before you start reading:

**First:** There's dialogue directly taken from **Putting the Damage On** - not a lot of it, but some. You really don't have to read that story to read this one, but it can't hurt. I reference the happenings there quite a bit as it is a direct continuation of the piece.

**Second:** Generally, I write from only Nikki's and Nora's POVs. This is one also contains Ann's. To make it a little easier to follow, each chapter is character specific. The pattern is as such: Nora, Ann, Nikki, Nora, Ann, Nikki... I wasn't going to at first, but then well, since this is as much Ann's story as it is Nikki and Nora's it felt like the right thing to do. I hope you don't mind too much.

**Third:** I warned you it was long...and vague disclaimer's are no one's friend...We are here, the last of this series. I've no plans for another Nikki & Nora story after this (feel free to spit and sputter my way) and that's mainly due to this series occupying the brain space available for plot development. I can with 70% certainty state that in terms of the world created here...this is the end.

**Lastly**, this story is about three years in the making. At the end, I hope I've did the characters here a bit of justice and yinz all have enjoyed the ride. If this doesn't satisfy you, blame DocWho, she's responsible for planting the seed for PtDO. :P

I'm done now. thanks!

* * *

**Ch. 1 – Riddled Savageries**

"Nikki!" I call out from inside our closet trying to get my lover's attention in the bathroom.

I hear the shower shut off and just decide to head her way. Better me going in there than her tracking through the bedroom. She usually makes a mess when she showers anyhow.

And I swear all I really want to do is call off. Tell Dan I'm dead and sleep the rest of the week.

I don't get it.

It used to be easier, this going nonstop.

Of course, the sensible part of me, reminds that that was fifteen years ago. I'm not a spring chicken anymore. Huffing, I right myself and head into the bathroom.

The smile's automatic as I witness her towel off.

"Oh, no," she warns, noticing my smile and covers up with her favorite light-blue, over sized towel, "We don't – a. have time, b. I'm way too tired and c. you," she points her finger at me and narrows her eyes, "you fell asleep on me as I was taking off your jeans last night."

I suck in my lips and have the decency to look away. She's right. I was so tired last night that I'm surprised I made it into bed. Although, I suspect that had more to do with Nikki taking care of me and less of my ability to be an adult when I'm exhausted.

"I, uh," I start trying to smooth things over. The stutter gets me a raised eyebrow. "Sorry," I mumble instead. "Really, I, uh…"

"Save the apologies for later," Nikki says with a grin. "I'd rather just get through today and take the three days we have coming to us." She resumes her regimen and I try to remember why I came in here in the first place.

"Nor," Nikki says gathering my attention. I follow her line of site down to my bra clad upper half and the half-zipped jeans and open button.

Oh, right.

Belt.

"Sorry, I was calling you, but the water and the shower. I can't find my belt," I tell her and look around the bathroom. Maybe I left it in here. A scowl firmly plants itself on my face as I notice more things have been moved.

My running shoes were tucked under the bed. There was a pile of clothes in the corner that needed to go to the dry cleaners and they're gone.

Wait a minute…

I stop looking through the belts on the back of the bathroom door and turn around sweeping a discerning eye over our bathroom.

A bathroom that was in need of a thorough scrubbing yesterday morning when we were getting ready.

The clothes hamper isn't bulging, the spots on the two vanity mirrors are gone, the shower stall door looks polished. "Nikki…" I rumble in the direction of my lover's bare, retreating backside.

"Nicolette Joyelle Beaumont," I snap and march into the bedroom while she disappears into the closet I was just in. "What'd you do, Nikki?" I rest my hands on my hips and wait for her.

She has to come out of there eventually. My foot taps against the thick carpet. I hear her rummaging and cloth sliding across skin before she emerges in black slacks and purple button down blouse that's hanging open to reveal a purple satin bra. Her smile is wide and her hair is wrapped up in her towel.

"Yes, dear?" she asks, batting her eyelashes my way.

My right hand comes up and I point my finger at her. "What. Did. You. Do?"

She comes up, takes a hold of my finger and laces our hands together before pressing our bodies together. "I may have enlisted some help." She tries to peck the corner of my lips, but I turn my head, making sure she only catches my left cheek.

"Nik," I gripe and step away, buttoning up my pants and doing the zipper up as I build steam, "we've talked about this. We're capable individuals who are quite adept at keeping our house clean and put together. I won't have someone, especially someone I don't know, come into my home and…"

My rant is stopped by a slim index finger pressed against my parted lips.

"Nora Marie Delaney, now you look here," she gripes right back at me, "I don't disagree with you on any one of those points. But," she removes the finger from my lips and stands back to allow me to put a shirt on, "we have been going nonstop, if not at work, than at the foundation for longer than I care to admit. I was, in no uncertain terms, going to run down to Target and buy a new set of underwear just so I could have some clean ones to wear, _again_." Her hands settle on her hips and she finishes, "Once a month is one time too many. Twice a month is unacceptable."

"But…" I try again.

She goes over to the dresser and…

Damn it.

There it is.

Handing me my belt, I say, "Thanks, but, Nik…"

"Look, I just asked Gale, you know Daddy's house keeper, that it would be amazing if she could pop over here while we were working and straighten up. We've been so busy, baby. It's not that big of a deal," she reasons while ducking back into the closet and coming back out with a pair of shoes and thin trouser socks.

I thread the belt though my jeans hoops and buckle it up before securing my gun and badge to their respective space along my hips. I really want to huff and puff and blow her reasoning away but…

I'm sunk.

She's right.

"So does that mean I can put my two day old socks in the hamper?" I ask as concession.

"Already did that, sug," Nikki titters making her way to the bathroom to do her hair.

I shake my head, grab a freshly laundered pair from my drawer and reach for my sneakers peeking out from under the bed. I've been up for a little longer and leaving Nikki to her morning routine seems like the solid option. "I'm gonna take Mister outside for a quick lap around the block, be back in fifteen!" I holler over the hair dryer.

"M'kay!" she hollers back.

Well, at least there are clean clothes. I look back at the bed and then it registers, the sheets are tucked in. Snorting, I shake my head. We even got clean sheets with a fresh made bed and I didn't even notice.

Snatching Mister's leash from around the door knob, I trot downstairs and seriously reconsider this whole 'refusal to have help' thing I've been protesting for the past year.

She may actually be on to something.

"Come on, buddy," I call out to the mutt lying against the kitchen island. His head pops up at the sight of the leash and my voice. I hold the back door open for him; he scrambles up and takes off. I set out at a brisk pace to catch up with him waiting at the end of the walkway.

* * *

"Oh, my God!" Nikki exclaims as her arms stretch above her head and she drops her pen on the stack of files she just closed. "I'm done. If I have to fill out another box or report, I'm taking a header off the station roof."

I glance up from my last report and cock an eyebrow at her. "A little dramatic there princess."

She just groans and leans over her desk, resting her head along its edge. I can't really blame her. We had two meetings with the prosecutors for our last two cases and then paperwork.

The fun stuff that they don't tell you about in the academy.

"Well, if you give me ten minutes, I'll be done and then we can get out of here," I tell her and go back to filling out the last section of the report, 'Officer Assault'. I mark off the appropriate boxes because nothing happened, the take down here was routine. A warrant was served and hopefully, a bit of justice.

I scrawl my name across the bottom of the page, date it and then close the file.

"Done," I state while stretching myself.

Nikki's smile lights up the quiet room and asks, "So, if you're done and I'm done…" she exaggerates looking around, our colleagues' desks are all empty, the uni's are keeping to themselves and Dan left a half hour ago, "Does that mean that it's officially our weekend?"

I lick my lips and in the most serious tone I can muster I say, "I'm not sure I would go that far. We need to slip these in Dan's inbox and sign out."

"I'd gather quickly," Nikki says and stands collecting the outstretched folder from me. Hers go under that and she saunters to Dan's door and plops the file in the bin nailed to the wall beside it. I shut my computer down, joining her with her coat and purse as we meet at the bull pen entry way. "Thoughts on what we're going to do for three whole days?" she asks as I hold her jacket up so she can slip her arms through.

I pull her hair out from the collar and shrug. "Sleep, eat, relax," I reply as she slips her arm through mine and we head downstairs to sign out for the day.

"Hmm, that sounds wonderful. Dinner?" she asks as we hit the landing and sign out, giving Sean a wave over my shoulder before we head outside.

Ugh. Rain. "Wait here. I'll go grab the car so we're both not completely drenched," I try to leave without a protest, but Nikki doesn't let my arm go and until she starts off in a jog.

Okay.

I pick up my pace, remote Bruce open and dash towards the SUV. I lose the impromptu race. She's already in the passenger seat by the time I slip into the driver's side. On the upside, it wasn't raining too hard and I'm not completely soaked.

I cut my eyes to Nikki. The last thing I need to hear about is her frizzy hair. Thankfully, it looks manageable. "Don't care. We can pick something up or go home to relax a bit and go out?"

Turning the car over, I secure my seat belt, back up the beast of a vehicle and head towards home. "I don't think I'll want to leave once we get home. Let's just…" my girl trails off and I glance over. Her phone is pressed to her ear and I hear, "Hi, I'd like to put in an order to go. Two orders of the enchiladas, pancho villa's nachos, a bottle of the Graffigna Pinot Grigio and one order of the traditional flan."

She must be ordering from the El Gato, that's the only time she orders enough food to feed a small army. Wonder if she has something up her sleeve?

Sighing, I change course and signal left to head towards the restaurant. Not that I don't like their food. It's good, all of it, but I can barely eat half the dinner portion on the enchiladas and she got an appetizer and desert.

"Thank you, we'll be there soon," she ends the call and dumps her phone in the cup holder of the middle console.

"So did you invite people over for dinner that I don't know about?" I tease her and hold my hand out for her to take. She takes the offered hand and shrugs.

"I'm starved and the wine sounded good, but the wine goes better with the nachos and I know you have a sweet tooth, so…" she ends it there by way of explanation.

"Just to clarify, the plan is to fatten us up, get us drunk and then…" I wonder and see the sign for the El Gato Negro come up on my right.

"Well," Nikki purrs, her right hand reaching around and dancing her fingers up my arm to bop me on the tip of my nose, "I was thinking sustenance, a little wine to help for relaxation and then a bath where I may be persuaded to let you ride me until we can't move for a whole day."

Uh…

"Okay," I manage through my still floored mouth. Who was I to argue with my partner's plans for us this evening?

"Then I suggest you pull over so I can run in and get the food," she singsongs and pecks my cheek.

I shake my head and realize that I was too close to try and pull up next to the place so I double park, put my hazards on and shoo her from the car. This gives me time to regroup. The whole bathtub bit of her plan sort of threw me. I rub a hand over my face and crack my neck.

Thank God I got some sleep last night.

I watch the traffic out the front and let my fingers drum along to the radio as I wait. Traffic's starting to slow because of the rain. Not a good sign for patrol cars. They'll have more accident reports than they'll know what to do with tomorrow.

A tap on my window snaps my head in its general direction. A uni's got his Maglite out and waving it at me. I bite my lips and kill my snicker. Squinting, I read the name plate, Whirly, and don't give him time to open his mouth as I roll the window down. I unclip my badge and flash it his way.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask as he registers the gold shield.

"Sorry, detective, but you're double parked…" he trails off at my raised eyebrow.

"My flashers are on; I've been here less than five minutes, Ofc. Whirly. Did you bother running the plates before you stepped out of your vehicle?" I ask with just a hint of annoyance. I'm not really, but the kid looks like he should be in middle school, not in uniform. I can only hope I didn't look that young in uniform.

Nikki…seeing the pictures from her academy graduation. I involuntarily tug at my t-shirt collar. It does funny things to me.

"Uh…I…no…ma'am," he stutters.

I prop my arm on the door and lean out the window a little, risking the rain to be heard over the noise of passing traffic. "Allow me to provide a little bit of instruction since they have you riding without a partner." I look over my shoulder to verify. Stupid budget cuts. "If you're going to pull a vehicle over or approach a stopped vehicle, you run the plates. That's week two of training. There's a reason for that. What if the car had been stolen? What if the plates didn't match the vehicle? What if I was a fellow officer and you have to suffer through an embarrassing lecture?" I poke my finger out and tap his chest to make sure he's wearing armor. I nod when I feel the Kevlar's resistance.

"Now, on top of all that, the way you approached the vehicle, bad form. You were in front of me, you approach, you approach from behind and stay off to the side. It's hard as shit to shoot over your shoulder." I retract my finger and look back at his blushing features. "You saw a blonde woman in a car and made assumptions. Were those assumptions correct?" I ask and use my right hand to nudge back my jacket to reveal the butt of my gun.

He shakes his head.

"I'd like to see you alive at the next function the brass makes us go to, Whirly. Make sure you remember this," I say and roll up my window not bothering with anything else. Really what else is there to say? My eyes are glued to my side mirror as I see him trudge back to his cruiser.

Nikki slips inside and immediately the car is filled with the spicy aroma of good Mexican food. "What was all that about?" she asks hooking her thumb behind her.

I shake my head. "Kid was just trying to bust me out for double parking. I…"

"Dressed him down. I heard, sug," she laughs at me. "I'm surprised he's still walking right."

She pecks the corner of my mouth to take the sting from her words, but I still protest, "He…"

She shakes her head. "You did the right thing. Now, Det. Delaney, why don't you take me home and we can kick off our weekend with a bang?"

I offer her another dip of my chin, kill the hazards and pull out into traffic. "Yes, ma'am."

I don't need to be told twice.

* * *

"Nikki," I press back against my lover and she barely stirs.

Sighing, I blindly reach out towards the night stand and fumble along the top. The buzzing stops as I hit the green button and croak, "Delaney."

"Nora?" the man on the other end questions…I know that voice. "I thought I called Nikki's phone?"

Benny. It's Benny.

Shit.

"You did," I say softly and try to move away from Nikki, but she takes her duties as big spoon seriously and tightens her grip. "Nikki's the big spoon tonight and I'm closer to the phones. What's up?" I finally ask as the fog clears.

"Oh, you two naked? It'd make my night if you two were naked," he teases me and despite myself, I grin.

"As the day we were born. When's the last time you had a gorgeous brunette molded to your back?" I give as good as I get and hear him groan.

"Been too long, but I'm afraid…look I know you two aren't due back for another day, but I have a favor to ask. Dom and I are up for rotation and got a call from the desk, but you know Rosie's about to pop and she pitched a fit when Dom was getting ready to leave and I know it's like…"

"Three a.m.," I fill in as I look at the bedside clock.

"Right," he sighs. "You don't have to take the case, just go out there and clear the scene. Dom and I will cover the morning for you and you and Nikki can go back to sleep for a bit. Please?" he begs.

"No problem," I say automatically. Rosalie's been a bitch and it's their first child. "Call dispatch and tell them we're coming instead, be there within the hour. Text me the location."

"You are…next time I see you, Delaney, I'm planting one on you," he breathes relieved.

"Do it and lose your balls, Armstrong. We'll see you in the morning." I disconnect the call to his snicker.

"Baby," Nikki moans from behind me.

"We need to go, Nik. Come on," I urge her with a gentle thrust of my hips that dislodges her arms. Sliding off the bed, I turn and watch her rollover and open her eyes. She blinks a few times looking up at the ceiling and then groans.

"Time is it?" she asks sitting up as I start to gather our clothes. I toss panties, pants, bra and t-shirt on to the bed. I grab the clothes I had on tonight and start getting dressed.

"Three," I answer when she moves to start getting ready.

"Hmm, and I was hoping for a lazy morning roll in the hay," she grumbles and stands to pull up her underwear.

"Best laid plans…" I trail off and slip my shirt over my head.

She grunts and that's the end of the conversation. We finish getting ready with a practiced routine for these early morning wake up calls and are out the door inside of twenty minutes. We may not look all that pretty, but really, what do people expect.

The address Benny texted is a good twenty minutes on the surface streets and taking the highway would just take us in the wrong direction. So I suck it up and let Frankie rumble along the quiet streets this Monday morning.

As we turn down the alley, a uniform stops us and then waves us through as he recognizes me. Scene techs are out in force and there are spotlights set up for the forensic photographer. I look up at the night sky and see not a cloud in the sky. A beautiful night has been ruined for someone.

"Nora? Nikki?" Charlie calls out from down the alley, where the body's laid out.

I snap a pair of gloves on and hand a pair off to Nikki. "G'mornin', Charlie."

"Well, I was expecting Barrett and Armstrong. How'd you get roped into this?" he asks using his pinky to scratch at his forehead.

"Barrett's wife is pregnant and due soon. She wanted to keep him home so…" Nikki fills in for us as we approach the M.E. and the dead body.

"Ah, well, then, it's lovely to see you both." His grin is way too genuine for this time in the morning.

"Would you like to start us off?" I ask and start scanning the body. I start with the feet. Size alone tells me male, tall and male. The jeans are dirty and the white t-shirt the vic has on is grimy from the alley floor.

I scan further up and stop at the chin.

No way.

My eyes flick to the vic's face and I wince.

Just…

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I close my eyes and reach for Nikki.

I blink and she turns away from Charlie to look at me. I see her eyes track over my shoulder and her mouth drop open.

"You see what I'm seeing, right?" I ask, needing her to tell me exactly what I don't want to hear.

She nods.

Fuck.

"Do we have an I.D. yet?" Nikki turns away from me and back to Charlie.

He nods and reaches down to a small pile of evidence bags. He finds the one he wants and tosses up to me. I flip the bag over and look at the Missouri driver's license. The name 'Dennis Addison' glares back at me.

Well, isn't this just…

The phone's in my hand before I blink and it's ringing as I bring it up to my ear. On the fourth ring, she answers, "Flemming."

"Ann, it's Nora," I greet and spin on the ball of my right foot to look down at her primary suspect in a string of murders.

"I got that. What's up chicken butt," she laughs at me. She must have been awake.

Jill's going to kill me.

I mean really how exactly do I tell her this?

I clamp my eyes shut tight and just go for it, "Okay, two things: one, never say that to me again, and two, what's up is me looking at the corpse of your person of interest in the No Profile killings. Mr. Addison is lying upright and looking at the big NOLA night sky without the proper grin to match."

"What?" the disbelief saturates her tone.

I'm right there with you, hon.

"Dennis Addison is dead. Nikki and I are looking at his corpse right now, Ann," I inform her gently.

This isn't going to end well.

I hear her sigh and say, "We'll be there as soon as possible."

The line goes dead and I slip the phone in my back pocket.

My hands go to my hips, my lips purse and Nikki looks just as unimpressed as I am.

So much for Benny and Dom taking point on this when they get in in the morning.

So much for us going back to bed to enjoy the last day of our three day weekend.


	2. Plant Your Hope

**Ch. 2 – Plant Your Hope**

"All right ladies, wheels are hitting pavement in ten," John informs as he comes back from the cockpit.

I look down at the brunette head resting in my lap and go to wake her when Travis shakes his head across from me.

"What?" I ask him.

"She's mean when she wakes up," he hisses.

I roll my eyes.

"Jill," I say softly and run the tip of my index finger along the shell of her right ear. It causes her to stir slightly. I let my hand trail south, over her shoulder and down to her arm. I lace our fingers together and give her arm a tug. "Jilly, time to get up babe, we're landing."

"Hmm," my wife grunts and snuggles deeper into the seat and nuzzles my legs. "I'm good."

"Uh-huh," I tut. "You need to put your seatbelt on. Come on." I tug her arm a little harder and she sits up.

The pout is cute, but it's not going to work right now. I nudge her with my shoulder and she straightens up. Jill runs a hand through her tousled locks and then rubs the sleep from her eyes. "I really need to learn to stay the fuck awake on planes," she grumbles and snaps the seatbelt across her hips.

"Better than sitting here being bored," Travis offers meekly. "We can only speculate so much until we get to a scene."

"Yeah," John says, squeezing between the three of us to take the seat across from Jill. "I can only look at this shit and be pissed off so much."

"Well," I say pointing across the aisle to the four other seats occupied by Bamby, Spencer and Luce, "you could just do what they're doing."

The group directs their attention to the three women across from us. Luce's got her nose firmly planted in a cheesy romance paperback. Spencer and Bamby have been passing a pad of paper between them. Their snickers are not lost on us.

"Hey, John?" Travis asks. "Why are we the only guys here?"

My partner's eyebrows knit together and he chews his lower lip. "Less chance of sexual harassment claims?" he ventures.

"That's a shitty excuse," Lucy speaks up and sets her book on her lap.

John shrugs. "The only straight ones are me, you and Travis."

"That has what to do with what?" Spencer snips at her dad. "Besides, I'm here as an intern. Legally, my rights are pretty moot, but you're also my dad." She cocks an eyebrow at him and finishes, "So really, I think the proper response, father, is that as highly selective positions in S.I.U., you only recruit the best. It just so happens the best seems to be more female."

"Now, wait," Bamby stops her sister, "I think one way or the other, you're leaning towards a gender bias. If our dad was smart, his response should have been, 'Travis, I don't look at the gender of the agent, but their skill sets. We just happen to have a slightly higher ratio of female-to-male agents. Really, it's only eight points above the population split of fifty-two female to forty-eight male." Bamby waggles a finger at her dad. "Unfortunately, we get our brains from our mom and daddy's S.O.L."

Jill and I snicker. John huffs, "I don't think I'm going to survive working with both of them. Ann," he barks my name. "Why'd you talk me into this?"

"Me?" I shake my head. "This was all you, partner."

"I think that the only person that gets sexually harassed is me," Jill gets her two cents in.

John, of course, takes the bait. "I'm just trying to get you to see the light, Jill. You know you want me more than that woman to your left."

"I signed a prenup though," my wife pouts, even though we didn't, and snuggles into my side just as the plane's wheels touch the tarmac. She waits for the pilot to even out the landing before continuing, "But if she dies, I'm all yours."

"I'll give you a pass and let you play Seven Minutes in Heaven when we get settled," I offer gamely.

John wiggles his eyebrows and Jill asks, "You still have a penis?"

My partner bobs his head and Jill shakes hers. "That's a deal breaker."

The plane banks right and John snaps his fingers. "Damn. Maybe next time."

"Eww," the sisters say at the same time. Spencer's look is that of mortification as she grumbles, "I'm so telling mom when I talk to her tonight. That's just…gross."

The rest of us just bust up, forgetting that Spence really isn't used to John the Agent and not John the Dad. Bamby swats her sister's arm and says, "That was tame. You missed dad being pissed that Ann's no fun to go to the strip club with."

"Oh, Jesus. Really, dad? Really?" Spencer slouches down in her seat and covers her face with her jacket.

The plane finally comes to a stop and the seatbelt light dings off.

I'm the first one up and begin to grab our bags from the overhead compartments. Lucy takes hers, Bamby, Spencer and Travis follow creating a line at the door while our pilot opens the cabin doors. I toss John his bag and he nods. "You ready?" he asks me slipping the straps of his lone piece of luggage across his shoulders.

I shrug. "We never really are."

He nods and gives Jill's shoulder a squeeze before filing out of the plane with the rest of our team.

"Babe?" Jill asks looking at me as I juggle our three bags.

"Come on," I say and take her hand, "Nik and Nora are probably waiting on us." I really don't need her questioning that exchange. If she'd have stayed home…

But she wasn't going to pass up a free flight to see two of her favorite people either…so…

I'll deal.

I plaster a smile on my face instead. This causes her to smile and tug me forward.

The sun's just risen, but our friends are resting against a large, black Suburban. Nora's car is parked behind it. Once they see us, they push off the vehicle together and Jill drops my hand to scurry down the steps. She attacks Nikki first. Wrapping her up in a bear hug that should break a rib or two, then she let's Nik go to jump on Nora and wrap her legs around our friend's waist.

Some things never change.

"Hey!" John hollers, "Quit attacking our help."

Jill's head pokes up from the crook of Nora's neck and she pouts, "Nora's mine. You can't have her."

The team just looks at us. All I've got is a shrug. They've worked with Nora before and they know of Nikki, but this is the first time that we're all going to be working together.

"Jill, down girl," Nikki tugs at the back of her pants and gets her to drop from around Nora's waist.

"Nora, Nikki," John greets, "It's good to see you two again. This is the rest of our team, Agents Lucy Walker and Travis Washington, Dr's Bamby and Spencer Malone."

"Your daughters?" Nikki asks probably remembering the pictures John showed her a few years back.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Bamby teases and sticks out her hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you both. Dad, Jill and Ann have said a lot of good things. Our expectations are high." Bamby winks at the two and my friends just grin.

"Are we done with the greetings?" John asks as he starts tossing bags in the back of the Suburban.

"Good to meet you all," Nikki finishes up. "You guys are taking the Suburban to get yourselves checked in at the hotel. Nora programmed the GPS for you. Jill," Nikki takes my wife's hand, "You and Ann are staying with us."

We both nod and start piling into Frankie. "John, meet us at the apartment and we'll head over to the station together."

"See you in a few," John says before ducking into the driver's seat and taking off.

I guess it's go time.

* * *

Nora's lying on the couch when Jill and I come back from our room. The little bit we brought will tide us over for a while. We have enough spare clothes here that it's like a second home. I just hope I have enough work shirts. If not, I'm going to have borrow some from Nikki or Nora. Well…let's think about this, Nikki's to small and Nora's arms are too long, but…

I shake it off; beggars can't be choosers and all of that.

"Do you usually come with Ann on cases?" Nora asks with her eyes closed as she lifts her legs to allow Jill and me to settle down. I pull at her ankles and lay my hands on top of her legs now resting across our laps.

"It's rare, but it happens," Jill answers and takes Nora's hand in her own. "It just gives me an excuse to come visit."

"Hmm," Nora hums and finally cracks an eye open to look at us.

"I'm so sorry, Jen," Nikki says from somewhere in the house. I crane my neck around and watch her and her lawyer friend come into the living room. "I know we had breakfast scheduled, but a case came up and we have company."

Nora finally sits up and runs her left hand through her hair. "Morning, Jen," she says and waves a hand between me, Jill and Jen. "These are our friends, Ann and Jill Flemming."

We stand and offer our hands in greeting. "It's nice to finally meet you," Jill's manners come out to play.

"Same here, Nikki and Nora have said nothing but good things," Jen replies and sets down in one of the arm chairs. We go back to our spots on the couch. "So what are your plans while visiting?"

"I'm actually here on business; the case these two caught is a part of a Federal one…" I start.

"And I was going to lounge around in sweats and t-shirts all day," my wife finishes.

"Hmmm, a girl after my own heart," Jen preens. "I just so very rarely get the opportunity to do just that."

"Would it be okay if we reschedule?" Nikki interrupts, motioning Nora up to squeeze between my wife and her partner on the couch.

"I was hoping to get everything finalized on the Halloween Gala, but…" Jen wags a finger at her friend, "I suppose, considering the circumstances, I can try to wing it without you."

"Gala?" I wonder aloud. I know all about the foundation and Nora's involvement. She usually tells me if there are major things happening so we can donate.

"Yeah," Nora speaks up, "It's the annual one, you guys sent a donation the last three years."

"Oh," for some reason that sparks something in Jill. I honestly can't keep track of what she donates to, I just send checks if she asks me. "I remember that. Nor, you sent us the invite, cute little bat shape, last year."

"The Flemming's from Virginia?" Jen asks as she crosses her legs and leans back. "I knew that name sounded familiar. I feel a fool not having put two and two together until now."

"I," Nikki declares, "have a fabulous idea." She turns towards Jill and lays a hand on her thigh. "Since you were just going to 'bum' around, why don't you take my place and help Jen out?" She bats her long lashes for good measure and I roll my eyes.

"That is a superb idea," Jen readily agrees, perking up at the thought. I'm not sure if it's because she may have help if Jill agrees or if it's because of the looks she was giving my wife.

My wife bites her bottom lip and looks at me. I shrug my shoulders, letting her know that it's her call. It would give her something to focus on rather than having a lot of her energy directed my way. She can fuss an awful lot.

"Okay," she agrees, "I don't see why not."

"Splendid," Jen beams. "I have reservations for breakfast at Lorretta's if you'd like to come with me and we can get started, get you up to speed?"

Jill looks down at the yoga pants and tank top she wore on the plane. "Give me ten minutes to look presentable?"

"Of course," Jen amicably agrees.

My wife bounces up off the couch and starts to head back to the bedroom, but stops midstride. She locomotives herself backwards, stops at Nora, pecks the top of her head and does the same to Nikki. When she gets to me, she leans down and gives me a proper kiss and says, "Love you, be safe and call me later."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." I grin back.

"How long have you two been married?" Jen asks.

"Fifteen years in October." I can't help but beam.

"It's been that long?" Nora leans over and gives me a gentle shove in the shoulder.

I nod. In some ways, it seems like a week ago I was on that photo shoot with her in Denmark, but then it just sort of feels like we always were married. I shrug.

"Congratulations," the lawyer says. "In today's day and age, it's quite the accomplishment."

"Eh, she's okay I guess," I try to keep myself from getting sappy. I can get sappy with Jill, Nora and sometimes Nikki, but I don't know her.

"Ass," Nikki bumps into me.

"Hello?" I hear John call out from the kitchen as Mister gives a soft woof.

"That's our cue, ladies," I say standing and offering a hand each to my friends.

"Jill has her keys, right?" Nikki asks me and calls out, "John, we'll be right there."

I nod and offer Jen a wave. "Good luck with her." I point towards the guest bedroom then holler, "Babe, love you, call you later."

"'Kay!" Jill hollers back and we file out to meet John in the kitchen.

He's crouched down on the tiled floor by the door. Mister's giving his hand an enthusiastic tongue bath and I grin.

"We ready?" he asks not bothering to look up from scratching the dog behind the ears.

"Of course," Nora says and shoos Mister upstairs. "Dan's waiting on us. Let's roll."

* * *

The station hasn't changed much since I was here last. It's sort of an odd comfort. While the only case we've worked in New Orleans was that cluster with the D.E.A., I like the fact that there's so much consistency surrounding Nora. I'd never actually admit to her that I was going to turn down the Bureau job that got me to move away.

I was so worried about Nora then. She was dicking around with Cass, she wasn't out and the only times she had fun was with Jill, me and/or Casey. With my move, it meant that we weren't going to be there to watch out for her. She'd probably kick my ass if I ever told her, but I did tell Nikki at some point, or I told her a watered down version of it. I also may have been a little drunk too.

I cast a look her way and see her and Nikki laughing with John and I'm over the moon things have worked out for her. I'm hard pressed to know anyone that's more deserving.

"Delaney, Beaumont!" Dan shouts from the entry way of the bull pen. "Bring your friends; I've got some space cleared out in the large conference room."

Nikki takes the lead and we all, me, Nora, and my team, file out and follow Nikki down a long hallway and through a set of double doors. The room's a little out of the way, which I like, but the furnishings are probably from the Seventies and the computer looks to be from something IBM put out in the very early Nineties.

Travis and Lucy put the case files on the conference room table and John joins Dan at the head of the room.

"Let's get the intro's out of the way, I'm Lt. Dan Harney, with me are Det.'s Georgia Sarte, Jesse Furlan, Ben Armstrong, Dom Barrett and you all know Beaumont and Delaney," Dan caps off and the other four detectives give a small wave.

"I'm Dir. John Malone, my partner, Ann Flemming, Agents Travis Washington and Lucy Walker and Dr.'s Spencer Malone and Bamby Malone," my partner introduces our crew and I can't believe I have not one, not two, but three Malone's to contend with on this fucked up trip back to my favorite place in the world.

John's going to be insufferable. Especially considering that Spencer really hasn't told him why she came home and why she decided to take her sister up on an internship that doesn't pay a damn thing. He knows about the assault, but Spencer doesn't know he knows and won't tell him personally.

It's also kinda funny that she's a six figure a year physicist at one of the top colleges in the world, but she took a leave and now here she is.

At least Bamby's doing her best to try and take care of her.

"Excellent," Dan carries on and I lean against the back wall while he goes over some of the ins and outs for the rest of the team.

Nora slinks towards the back and leans against the wall with me. She rolls her head my way and whispers, "You okay?"

I shrug. "I'm tired. I want this case over with, but it kind of feels like it's just beginning and…" I admit softly.

In an uncharacteristic lack of professionalism on Nora's behalf, she grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. She doesn't shy away when I rest my head on her shoulder and instead whispers back, "It ends here, Annie. We'll close this here."

My eyes flutter close as she presses her lips to the top of my head. They open when I hear Nikki speak up, "Ann prepped us pretty well before you guys came down. Nora and I were there when Ann tagged the L.A. murder."

"Do you know when the M.E. is planning on doing the post?" Bamby asks.

"He's waiting on you," Nikki answers. "We have an unmarked signed out already for you to go over to the labs and sit in or help out. Charlie," Nikki stops and corrects herself, "Dr. Ophoven was briefed and thought it'd be better for the case as a whole, if you were present for that."

"Awesome," Bamby squeals, "But I've taken the liberty of renting a car while we're here." She holds up a set of rental keys and I squint at the set.

She wouldn't…

"You rented a pick-up?" I ask. The girl is barely above five-foot-one. "Talk about over compensating," I snark and earn myself a glare from the twins.

I grin and am taken by surprise when it's Spencer that discreetly flips me off.

"Yes it is and it has G.P.S. so, I'm taking my clone and we'll be off." Spencer doesn't even get a say as her sister slings an arm around her shoulders and leads her from the room.

John's right eyebrow disappears under a lock of dark hair and I can just make out the slight twitch to his eye.

He may not survive this one…by no fault from the Unsub.

"I was thinking," Nora speaks up from beside me, "that since S.C.U. has cleared their board, we can just take all ten of us and form a task force. There's a lot of ground to cover and it'd be good to have enough people to do the leg work so we're not all run ragged."

Murmurs of assent are given all around and John takes point, "That sounds good. I know Ann's familiar with city. I'm not a complete fish out of water, but if we can, I'd like Det. Armstrong and Barrett to take Luce, Travis if you could pair up with Det. Furlan and Sarte that way we have people that know the city working with people that know the case?"

"I'm chopped liver?" Nikki teases my partner.

John's jacket get's pushed back as he plants his hands on his hips. "Not at all. You are with me and we'll leave Frick and Frack over there to fend for themselves."

Nikki looks us over and shrugs. Her and Nora exchanging words with a few looks and Nora finally shrugs.

"Looks like I'm stuck with you, Flemming," she playfully gripes.

"Excellent," Dan barks. "Then I'll leave everyone to it. If you guys need anything from me, I'll be in my office trying to cover for all of my detectives and doing their paperwork." He levels a pointed glance at every single detective before shaking John's hand again and offering me a small wave.

Dan's good people.

"All right, you three," he points to Travis and his new partners, "and you three," he points to Luce and her new partners, "I want to know what the hell Dennis Addison was doing in New Orleans. When he showed up, where he was staying and most importantly if he was seen with anyone? Call me with anything you have."

The six people nod and file out the door. I can hear Armstrong start rattling of suggestions when Barrett tells him to shut the hell up. I haven't had much interaction with Nora's coworkers besides Dan, but I think I'd like to hang out with them.

"And what, partner, will you have us doing?" I ask and push myself off the wall. I need some coffee or something. My eyes feel grainy and I'm not as peppy as I need to be for today.

"We're having these two take us to the crime scene," John answers and tosses me my jacket. "We'll stop for some caffeine somewhere along the way."

"Oh thank you, God!" I nearly shout and tug my jacket on. I'd kiss him right now if he were within arm's reach.


	3. Feel the Tide

**Ch. 3 – Feel the Tide**

I watch John and Ann look around the scene of where the case that they've been working off and on for near a year took a giant leap into the Mississippi. The one guy that they had for the series of murders winding up dead killed the case quicker than you can blink.

The alley responsible has seen better days. The rain that we had recently is creating quite the smell and I sort of wish they'd hurry up. I'm not sure if it's the rotting food, stale puke or the over powering smell of fusty piss that's churning my stomach, but there's only so much a girl like me can take.

Nora watches them too, hanging back with me to rest against Bruce's front end. We're hip to hip, arms folded across our chests as John and Ann bicker or point things out to the other. I tilt my head towards my lover and whisper, "Any idea what they're thinking or talking about?"

Nora tears her eyes away from our friends and she shrugs at me, canting her head in my direction. "Probably the same thing I'm thinking."

"Which is?" I encourage her thought process.

"Look around, Nik." Her hand waves around the alley we were called to early this morning. "Think about the review we did on the L.A. killing. We went over that crime scene just like Ann. We know the signature…"

"That doesn't fit. None of this fits," I finish for her.

"Exactly," she picks up again. "So now we have to start thinking, did Addison have a partner? Why didn't any of that pop up before in the scenes? Usually, killing duo's are easier to see than this. The alternative is that what if Addison was lured here? What if he was set up and not responsible for a damn thing?" The lines around her mouth deepen as her frown turns into a scowl. "I mean really, these killing have caused Ann too many problems. Now, what, they're primary suspect ends up dead, in our city, and they, we have to start from the ground up."

"Mighty fine way to start a day good and pissed off," I groan. Unfolding my arms, I plant them behind me and chew the right corner of my lower lip.

Nora rights herself and jams her hands in her coat pocket. "I'm going to tell the uni he's clear to leave the scene." I watch her saunter off towards the patrol car parked at the end of the alley we put there until Ann and her team made it into town. No reason the poor kid needs to wait around for anything anymore. We're here.

I push off the car and decide to join Ann and John. I approach the two federal agents. They're leaning close together, hands planted on their hips, looking around and lost in their own thoughts. Twin bunches of muscles on their respective jaws flex.

"We need to reevaluate," Ann states simply as I stop in front of them.

"I know," I say. "Nora and I were just saying the same thing."

I look around and down to where Addison's body was laying this morning. Markers are still indicating position and bits of forensic evidence that was collected. The blood that had pooled and ran off probably won't be cleaned up. "We know this was the kill site," I offer them and they grunt.

"Which is just one of the many issues that this…" Ann's clipped voice trails off. Her lips are a thin white line. Her head gives a few rapid shakes. Her finger tips drum across her hips.

"We're going to work off the assumption that Addison was a decoy. He was set up and lured here," John's states.

"I don't think…" Ann starts to argue, spinning his way.

"What that this was a partnership?" His voice climbs a little at the rhetorical question. "Addison didn't have any close associates. He had no one, Ann. The poor bastard wasn't in cahoots with someone for this. He was duped."

Ann shakes her head. "I still think dismissing the possibility…"

"That what? His partner finally got tired of him and decided to bring him down here and kill him in an alley for what?" John barks back.

I back up a little.

This is a partner argument. Having been in enough and witness to just as many, I know better than to get in the way.

"They're going to snap at each other a lot," Nora whispers behind me.

"It happens," I wave them off and spin around towards her.

"Look Flemming, until we can prove otherwise, Addison's a victim of this unsub just like the others. The killings were too consistent for us to even consider that there were two sets of hands doing the job," John's voice softens a little as Ann's shoulders slump.

Her eyes clench shut and she huffs. "Okay," she breathes and pops her eyes open. "Then if anyone wants to chime in with answers to these questions, I'd be appreciative."

"How appreciative?" John's question is just this side of lewd and his eyebrows dance under a lock of his hair.

"Seven Minutes in Heaven." she says and his cheeks flush.

I won't ask, nor do I want to know.

"Shoot," Nora says from my left.

"We assume Addison was lured here, why the departure in M.O.?" Ann starts asking. "Why not kill in the vehicle and dump the body? There's too much blood here to assume this isn't the kill site? How did the unsub remove the face this time? We know from prior cases they like to take their time. Would he have taken his time in such an exposed area?"

"Is the new M.O. a different message?" I ask aloud.

"What kind?" John follows up.

"Yes it is," Nora speaks up and attempts to answer the questions. "He doesn't fit the victimology. He's male for one, older for another. The unsub wanted to let us know that the wrong man was getting the attention for the killings. His death was for us."

"We already pegged him for a narcissistic asshat, so that fits," John says.

"Asshat?" Ann questions.

John shrugs. "A new term of endearment my daughter taught me."

"Oh-kay…" Ann lets it go. "Then why lead us to Addison if he didn't want us to peg him with the killings?"

"Ya'all just said he was a 'narcissistic asshat'," I provide a little contribution, "as such maybe that's what he wanted. You guys weren't shy though. You flashed Addison's picture on every major news channel like he was Bin Laden. Could have been too much for him to handle? Obviously, he's not above being a petulant asshat."

John's index finger wiggles at me and he grins. "I like the way you think, Beaumont. I like the way you think."

"Second that," Ann adds.

"Well, then take her," Nora jokes.

"Don't tempt us," John says throwing an arm around Ann's shoulders. "May just decide to keep her." He points between Ann and himself. "We make a cute couple, don't cha think? We could make it a threesome and blow this Popsicle stand. Chile is beautiful is the time of year."

Ann shoves him away and warns, "Keep it up Malone and I'm telling Jill and then I'm telling Becca."

The grin drops. "Fine. Spoil an old man's fun."

"Are we done trying to steal my partner?" Nora snips. I thread my arm around her waist and nuzzle her neck.

"It's okay, sug," I purr, "I'd only consider it if you got to watch."

Her lips pucker briefly before the smile breaks out. "You're insufferable," she gripes half-heartedly.

* * *

I look over the selection of donuts that we picked up on our way back from the crime scene. By the silence pervading the group behind me, it's a good sign that they appreciated the stop off too.

"Nik," Nora calls out from behind me, "can you bring me a maple bar when you come back?"

"Yes, sug," I answer and pluck a sugar twist up and the maple bar to take back to Nora. I make a note to do an extra ten on the stair master at the gym as I approach the table. She has my coffee waiting and slides it towards me as I settle in next to her.

Everyone's back from their assignments. My guess is that they either didn't find anything or they were just spreading the word. Both sets of our coworkers have great contacts throughout the city, but it still might take a day or two for them to get anything back.

"We're…" John starts up, stops and sucks on the pad of his sugar coated thumb.

"Seriously, partner?" Ann scoffs around a mouthful of the jelly donut she snagged.

The man offers a sheepish grin. "Couldn't let that go to waste."

Ann rolls her eyes but lets it go. "Anyhow, what tubbers was going to say is it's time for some show and tell." Spencer pops up from the end of the conference table and starts handing out thick manila folders with the F.B.I. logo on them. "Spence took some time on the plane ride down to put this together for those of you that aren't familiar with all the particulars of the case." Ann cuts a gaze to John and asks, "Can you refrain from sucking your thumb like a toddler or do you want me to kick us off?"

The man pops his thumb in his mouth and grins around the digit.

"Okay, so the first body, if you'll turn your attention to the report on the top left of the inside folder is the report on Margaret Talbert. She was found in July of Oh-eight in Duluth, Minnesota by Robert Scott and his son, Robert Scott Junior on a hunting expedition. The condition of the body was severely decomped. It had been sitting in a hunting shack about four clicks off a main hunting trial. Duluth PD did the best with what they had, which wasn't much." Ann skips through a few pages and says, "If you look at the crime scene photos provided by the State police, you'll see locale and area was highly secluded."

She stands and starts to walk a slow pace behind her chair. "Victimology is as such, she was born February Twenty-two, Nineteen-seventy-eight. Caucasian, blonde hair, blue eyes, survived by a son and mother and father. No husband.

"The next report is for victim two, Maria Sheridan, age thirty-six, D.O.B. May Seventeenth, Seventy-two. Hispanic, brown hair, brown eyes, found by her husband in their home in Los Angeles, California on September Thirtieth of Oh-eight." Ann pauses and waits for anyone that may have questions. I look around the conference room and my coworkers are all focused on the cases in their hands.

"Next case was picked up in St. Clairsville, Ohio. Vic was Jennifer Denbow, Caucasian, blonde hair, blue eyes. She was found by her father, John Denbow, in her apartment that she shared with her son. D.O.B Six Twenty-two, Seventy-seven." Ann pauses and tosses the folder back on the table. "The last vic was Barbara Seevers from Stafford, Virginia. She was brown haired, green eyed and Caucasian. She lived alone and was found by her neighbor. She was thirty-six."

Spencer steps up then and takes the lead, "The M.O. on all of these has been as close to the same as any two murders can be. The victims were unaccounted for from anywhere between three to five days. They're facial epidermis was removed in strips, using a cocktail of drugs, such as cocaine, epinephrine and antibiotics; they were kept awake as well. The bleed out of each vic was stunted by what Dr. Malone thinks to be an on-field med patch called D-stat Dry. It uses bovine thrombin to staunch blood flow and allow a slightly higher than normal healing rate."

Spencer tosses her own file on the table and laces her hands on top. "I left Bamby and Dr. Ophoven to finalize the post and join the meeting. Catching up on everything seemed like a good thing. Bamby should be back soon to give the prelim findings on the autopsy, but needless to say, what I saw wasn't pretty and matched the M.O. of your unsub." She looks to her dad and asks, "I said that right, right?"

"Yeah, kiddo." John just grins and laces his hands behind his head.

"You'll have to pardon me if I get some of the terminology jumbled, this isn't my usual forte," she amends for the rest of the group.

The group shrugs.

I don't think they care that much.

"So," Ann picks back up, "that means that we now look at Dennis Addison, who was our primary unsub."

"Well, we put some feelers out," Jesse speaks up for his group. "We'll hear a bit more within the next day or so. I need to give it time for the information to circulate. We did hit up some of the hotels and motels in the area, but nothing from any of them."

"Same on this end," Benny pipes in. "Cat wasn't in town long if my guy was right. I got the word out with a few contacts. Dom put in a few words with his. We'll see if anything pops that way. Right now, I got one of the prosecutors securing warrants for financials and phone records, but his wallet wasn't on him and he didn't have a cell phone either."

"Nothing?" Lucy asks flipping through the chart in front of her.

"Nada," Dom confirms. "It was either taken from him or he left it wherever he was staying. Dr. Ophoven only pulled the D.L. from the body. Presumably left for easy identification."

"So are we thinking that Addison was an accomplice or a herring in all of this?" Travis asks looking between Ann and John.

"I don…" Ann tries.

"We will be operating under the assumption that Addison was a herring…"

"Which I think it's too soon to tell…" Ann tries again.

"And to keep us all focused on finding our suspect, we will continue to operate under the assumption that Addison was nothing more than a patsy. We were led his way to draw the focus off the unsub. They may have known each other, hell they may not have. We're not sure right now and we'll be operating under that assumption until someone here can prove me wrong." John's gaze sweeps across the table and ends up glaring down at Ann.

Her jaw's set, but she does concede with a dip of her chin.

"What I'd like everyone to do, with a nice fresh set of eyes is have each group take a case and start breaking it down again; I want a new set of suspects for each killing. I don't care how far-fetched at this point. Someone links these women together. I want to know who."

There are general grumbles of agreement given all around before Nora leans into me and we start on Barbara Seevers.

* * *

A few hours, fewer ideas and way more than a few donuts and no one has much more than when we started. I shouldn't be shocked. One of the better investigative units in the country hasn't cracked this mess of a case yet, I'm not really sure what they're expecting.

Sighing, I reach for my mug and realize that it's empty. Nora was supposed… I look right and see she's not back. I glance down at my watch. Dan came and snagged her a little over a half hour ago.

She should be…

I shake my head.

That's been happening with more frequency over the past two months or so. Dan'll say he needs to see her and then they go off.

Hmm, I'm sure he's got her working on something ridiculous.

She'll get back here and until then I need more coffee. I push back from the table and head over to the credenza holding the empty donut boxes and the empty coffee pot. I set my cup down, open the top of the maker and dump the grinds and filter in the trash.

Guess it's time for some new sludge.

I prep the maker and swap out the pot for my cup. The empty boxes from earlier today get dumped in the trash and I wonder when we're going to break for lunch. I'm not hungry, but a general break wouldn't hurt.

I turn my head as the conference room door opens and Nora comes shuffling in. She's missing her shirt. The tank top she had on underneath the V-neck green t-shirt she was wearing is half untucked.

She takes a look around the room before sliding behind me and resting her hands on my hips. I lean back briefly before I have to swap out my now full cup of coffee for the pot. "Hmm, is there a reason for the wardrobe change?" I ask quietly.

"Dan's idea of a practical joke," she mumbles and leaves it at that.

It's Dan and that's enough to make me not question any further. She does take the opportunity to press up against me, sweep my hair to the side and press a kiss to my neck. I turn around as she dances away to take up her empty seat.

Following her, I sip at the hot liquid and wonder where I should start. I don't think anyone's began looking over Addison's file at length and I think we should really start looking at that a little closer. Even if the unsub didn't personally know him, Addison was chosen as the patsy for a reason.

I'd like to know why.

I set my cup down on one of the N.O.P.D. coasters at the table and settle back down. I was looking over Seevers' last few bank transactions to see if there was a pattern, but nothing popped. Addison's information is the last batch that needs to be gone through.

I flip the page and begin reading the little bit of intel that we have. All standard information is laid bare; Dennis Shawn Addison was born to Joanne Howard-Addison and Eric Addison on May Seventeenth, of Sixty-six. No brothers or sisters. He grew up in Jefferson City, Missouri, attending Patton Elementary, Gilliam Middle School and graduating with a 'B' average from Calvin Coolidge High School in Nineteen-eighty-four. A few odd jobs and then he signed up for the U.S. Army. He was an active member with two tours in the mid-East as an emergency medical technician. Honorably discharged in late November in Ninety-four. Immediately went back home and began working for American Medical Response until Oh-one. Married Shirley Cook in Ninety-six and had a son, Joseph, in Oh-five.

There was a workman's comp suit filed in Two-thousand, an accident that gave him a bum right leg and some scarring long the neck and part of his left cheek. He and his family were living off the decent settlement, a bit of Army pay, and S.S.I for the most part. His file says that his wife worked part-time as a nail technician in a salon in downtown.

Nothing extraordinary.

Nothing even remotely out of line either.

Ann's notes from the case tell me that he and his wife were on the outs and he hadn't been home in a good long while. "Lying, cheating bastard" were the exact words used by the missus. An interview conducted with one of his co-workers left little to like about the man either. He was lazy and did the barest to keep his job.

The profile that S.I.U. drafted mostly fit Addison's profile. Add on to the fact that he purchased that U.P.S. van and did the interior modifications and I'd have gone after him myself.

I run my hand down my face and gently rub my eyes.

They didn't have enough to put him in any of the states the murders took place though. Of course the wife couldn't corroborate whereabouts for her husband either for any of the deaths that occurred.

Doesn't seem like she's all that interested in doing so either given the interview notes.

Well ain't this just peachy.

No close friends in town, but he was in the military for eight years. He had to have made some friends.

I look at the back of the folder Spencer passed out and John's managed to include the man's sealed military records.

There has to be a link somewhere.

The military record is sparse. A few commendations and a few citations for insubordination, but nothing too damaging one way or the other. Just enough to fly under the radar and end up being completely forgettable.

That bugs me.

With all that we have, the only thing these files tell me is that Addison wasn't smart enough to pull off these killings. I know John wants to think of him as the patsy, but I can't. You don't set someone up like this unless you know them.

You would have to to do what they did to Addison and lead the F.B.I. to his doorstep.

The question is, where's the connection? No close friends, family is all but dead except for the wife and the son. The wife isn't a viable suspect.

I flip over to the profile of the unsub and look at the tick marks that I've made that fit Addison: male, Caucasian, between the ages of thirty-five to fifty, medical background, controlled, blends and disfigured. It's the ones that aren't checked that I focus on. If I saw this guy – just on paper – on my list of suspects, he wouldn't pique my interest, he wouldn't come across as a narcissist, meticulous would be debatable, organized, maybe ten years ago, patient – don't have enough information to say one way or the other and sadistic…?

I'm not really sold there either.

It seems as though he enjoyed making the last few years of his wife's life miserable, about the time she got pregnant and had their son…

Maybe the child's not his.

It's something to look at further. They waited an awful long time to have a child. That's not usually how that works, especially with a man like Addison.

There's another side to this as well…

I tap the tip of my chin and lose focus on the pages below me. What if Addison met the killer in the Army? It wouldn't be a far reach. Someone willing to go to the lengths this unsub has definitely fits the 'patient' category.

I wonder how much it would take to find out who Addison worked with?

Could we even?

I lean back and lace my hands behind my head and look around. John and Ann are shoulder to shoulder but not saying anything. Their looking at a laptop screen and scanning the information. Never hurts to ask. "I have a request," I announce to the group at large.


	4. Fall Short

**Ch. 4 – Fall Short**

Wearily, I look around the conference room. We lost a third of the team just after seven p.m. The rest of us were left with cold take out from a Thai place down the street and waning energy. Nikki reached her limit on cups of coffee two trips ago. Mine happened right after the take out.

Dr. Malone still isn't back from the labs and no doubt Charlie and Benton cornered her into helping them run tests. The other Dr. Malone is sitting opposite her father trying to get the particulars on those pads they think are being used.

The remainder of us, me, Nikki, John, Ann, Travis, Luce and Benny are looking through faxed copies of Addison's military past. The file they included in the report was the basics. The report John got through a contact over at the D.O.D. is a damn novel.

Now it's just a matter of seeing if there are any repeated names that pop up.

I rub my eyes and stifle a yawn. Three a.m. is way too early to be up and moving on only two hours sleep.

A nap'd be kinda nice right now.

It'd also be nice to know whatever Ann and John are thinking. They haven't said anything really…

They just keep exchanging these looks. Ann's given a pointed 'fuck you' look twice now and John's blatantly goaded her. Like right now, Ann looks like she's ready to strangle him. He looks unconcerned as he hunches over the table and folds his arms in front of him to lean on.

She sucks her teeth and glares.

He stares back blankly.

I almost want to start drawing little thought bubbles over their head to fill in the silent conversation.

I grab the cap to my pen and decide to get in on this. I launch the small piece of plastic her way. It bounces off her forehead with a solid thwap, startling her out of her stare down with John.

I cock an eyebrow at her and she gives a small shake of her head.

Does she really think that's going to work?

Granted, on most, it may. Ann's strong features, set jaw and steady blue gaze would usually do the trick on most.

I've known her way too long.

I do know enough to understand that I'm walking a fine line with her right now. A little too much and she'll clam up and stay pissed. A little soft and she'll take it as a joke.

Whatever they're pointedly not talking about over there doesn't look to be worthy of jokes.

I look at John. He raises his arms in the classic 'what are you gonna do' gesture. I narrow my eyes.

"Okay," Nikki interrupts the three of us. "I'm not sure what ya'all are doing, but I've seen enough. One of you start talking."

I wince at the tone.

I hate that tone.

It's worse than the 'go pick a switch' tone my mom uses.

It's Nikki's 'I'm withholding sex until you do as I ask' tone.

Ann rolls her eyes and grumbles at John, "I hate you sometimes, ass." She then looks at me and snips, "You couldn't keep out of it?"

I shake my head.

"What gives?" Nikki prods again and rests back on the chair.

Ann glances to the other members of her team and gives a brief tilt of her head before explaining, "There were a few pieces of information purposefully left out of the file Spencer put together."

My mouth falls open and Ann holds up a finger. "Now, wait a minute," her eyes skirt from me, to Nikki and then to Benny, "It's not a matter of trust, it was a matter of who was on the plane with us when those packets were put together."

My mouth snaps shut.

Why would it matter who…

"What are you hiding from Jill?" Nikki asks before I can.

A weary sigh passes through lips covered by the hand running down Ann's face. The hand drops to the table and begins to fidget with her pen. "I didn't want her seeing the letter and the personal message left for me at the Seevers' crime scene."

Ann leans down and comes back up with a few photocopied papers. She slides the stack my way. Passing a copy each to Benny then Nikki, I keep the last one for myself and scan the document.

_Dear Special Agent Flemming, _

_ Given the obtuse nature of those that pepper your profession, Mrs. Barbara Seevers graciously extended her willingness to help, by allowing me to leave you this gift. I hope you find in her death the answers she sacrificed herself for. _

_-"All great things must first wear terrifying and monstrous **masks** in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity."_

_ May your travels treat you and your loved ones well._

A chill started creeping up my spine as I read Ann's name, the feeling turns to ice as I finish the note.

The fucker's threatening her…and by extension, Jill as well.

"We found out about Seevers from an anonymous tip that came through an old eight-hundred line we had set up for Lullaby in New York. It's actually how we traced it back to Jefferson City. It," she groans out, "appears our unsub has a mild fixation directed my way."

I drop the paper and stare back at Ann. She has the good sense to find the table top interesting while informing us, "Jill doesn't know and right now, I'd like to keep it that way."

"And just how long do you think that's going to keep up?" Nikki snips. There's a little too much bite in her tone and I snap my gaze her way.

I trample down the vocal warning. Opting instead to slide my hand underneath the table and run it up her thigh.

"As long as necessary," Ann snaps back equally.

"Are you brain dead?" I calmly ask her. "Look where you're at, Ann. You're here, in New Orleans, where, I don't know Ann, you started your career?"

"Or," Nikki gets in on my rant, "that Nora's here? 'Cause if anyone's paid half attention to you or are doing what we know they're doing, stalking you. They'd know that you still have ties here and that we were with you and Jill in L.A. at the premiere. You think Addison ending up here is a coincidence?"

Ann licks her lips and slumps back in her chair. "No," she finally says. "I'm not brain dead. Yes, it did occur to me and yes, I'm aware that Nora…" She looks at Nikki pointedly, "and you are here. I don't think it's a coincidence."

"Well," Benny interrupts the glaring being directed Ann's way. "I think that gives us all additional food for thought." I turn my head and see that he's resting his hands on top of his head. His fingers over lap and tap against the tops of his hands as he speaks, "I also think that, and pardon my French, this mother fucker's got another thing coming if he's gonna try and lay a hand on my lesbians." He winks at me or Nikki. I can't be sure which. "As the lesbro to these two, and in the words of another dear lesbian friend, I'll cut a mother fucker that tries or y'know, just shoot him 'cause I can."

The federal agents, Ann included, stare mouth agape at Benny.

And I totally get it. I would too if I didn't work with him regularly.

"Gabby's been a bad influence on you and you need to quit hanging out with her and Casey," Nikki warns, smacking our friend on the back of his shiny baled head.

It does have the effect Ben intended as the once shocked agents erupt into a fit of giggles. I watch amused as Benny and Nikki start 'girl-fighting' with each other.

I roll my eyes.

I swear they're worse than children sometimes.

* * *

There's a catalogue somewhere in the universe that provides every cheap, roadside motel with a wide and varied selection of similarly colored, patterned and materialed necessities one of these dives would ever need to operate and function. The carpet's a dull brown, thinning and a little grimy. The bed spread matches the prison color orange of the drapes. The small table in front of the window is, I swear, the same one that my dad tossed when he bought mama the solid oak piece that still takes up residence in her dining room.

I'm half tempted to look underneath and see if my crayon marks are on its underside.

I don't, but if they were, it wouldn't shock me.

The king bed is slumped in the center, but made. The pine scented cleanser cannot mask the years people have spent smoking, screwing and getting wasted in this room.

"Why didn't we wait until morning?" Nikki grumbles from the other side of the bed rummaging through Addison's lone suitcase.

"'Cause Det. Barrett couldn't leave his wife and it makes no sense to call the entire team in when Spencer and Bamby are really the only ones that need to process the scene," Ann answers going through the dresser in front of the bed. "John needed the rest and I was too antsy to sleep," she follows up.

"Right," Nikki deadpans and huffs, tossing one soiled shirt after another on the bed. "Well, next time, do like the rest of us do, and take a bath or have sex or masturbate."

I snicker. Ann gives a low chuckle.

"I'll keep that in mind, Beaumont," she laughs Nikki's jibe off.

I do catch Nikki's eyes and frown down at her. She needs to lay off Ann. I know she's less than thrilled with being kept in the dark about how this case's turned personal. She's worried just as much as me.

She's not near as worried as Annie. I can see it in her. She looked tired coming off the plane. Weary and rumpled. Tonight, she looks older than she needs too.

Sighing, I drop to my knees and shine my flashlight under the bed. I sweep left to right and bottom to top. I stop as my light hits where the box spring and headboard meet. I frown at the edge of a manila orange envelope hanging down.

I right myself and say, "Ann, help me."

She spins on one sneakered foot and raises an eyebrow.

"There's something between the bed and the headboard. We need to get to it. Grab the camera and markers please?"

Nikki shuffles the clothes she was putting on the bed on to the floor and takes the markers to hold in place as Ann snaps a few pictures of the bed's placement in the room. Once she's finished, I take the mattress and slide it down to reveal the top edge of a letter-sized envelope.

"Nik, give me a marker or two and then we'll move the box spring," Ann directs and snaps a few pictures once Nikki has the markers in place. My partner holds on to the top edge of the envelope as I slide the box spring down to free the package.

Pinched between two latex covered fingers, Ann snaps off a few more pictures of the envelope's placement for records.

We all hiss, "Fuck," when Ann's name is revealed to be neatly printed along the front. A few more pictures are snapped before Nikki and Ann move away so I can right the bed, sliding the box spring and mattress back into place with a few hard thrusts from my thighs.

"Where do you want to open that?" I ask and plant my tongue in my cheek.

Ann swallows and sets the camera down next to the evidence collection box she brought with her. She pulls out a folded plastic sheet and a few evidence bags. Unfolding the sheet, she lays it across the table and Nikki sets it down. I pick up the camera, grab the L-shaped ruler to place along the items edge for reference and snap one pic of the front and one of the back.

Producing a knife from the inside pocket of her navy flight jacket. She carefully slits the top edge open. Holding the edges between her flat palms, Ann over turns the package, dumping the items inside straight down on to the sheet.

The insides cause a sharp thud to sound against the plastic as they fall. The envelop is placed in a bag, labeled, initialed and sealed to start the chain of evidence. Placing it at the top edge of the sheet, Ann goes back to the pile and says, "Nora, start snapping."

I oblige and look through the viewer on the camera, snapping pictures as she separates out the contents. I notice some glossy pictures and a single sheet of paper. The pictures are five-by-sevens, some black and white, mostly colored though. My friend takes great care in laying them out. The slight tremble in her hand does not go unnoticed.

I bite back the instinct to try and calm her. We have a job to focus on and working with Nikki, I've gotten used to shoving down those instant urges.

Once the items are all laid bare, I move to the front center of the table to snap a clear lay out with markers in place.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I remove the camera from eye level and look down. The knot and nausea are instantaneous. Varied images of Ann and Jill, one of them out in front of their home in Virginia, one of them at the premiere of Jill's movie is next to each other. There are two of Nikki and me, one at the same premiere and another walking Mister around our neighborhood on a day off not too long ago by the looks of it. There's one of the four of us and Lee at the premiere and another only of Ann, a little younger looking, walking towards her old Acura Integra, J.D, laughing on her cell phone with her sunglasses pushing her hair back away from her face.

My jaw clenches and the plastic case of the camera squeaks underneath my grip.

The letter is at the bottom right hand corner. The same neat script as the photocopied one Ann gave us earlier tonight stares back at me.

"Can…" Ann's voice falters behind me. I look over my shoulder and see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her head lowered between her knees.

She doesn't need to ask. I read the letter to her and Nikki:

_Dear Special Agent Flemming, _

_ I hope this letter finds it in to your very capable hands. I was compelled to share with you some of my favorite images of you and your dearest loved ones. You have quite the aesthetically pleasing group to call your own. Many of us are not that lucky. If you find yourself a religious person, although I have evidence to suggest the contrary, give thanks that you are blessed in such a way. _

_ I will say I was most taken with the performance your wife gave in her debut. I have to wonder if she screams just as well in real life as she does on the silver screen. _

_ At any rate, I leave you with this…_

_ -"Devils and Gods now that's an idea, but if we believe that it's they who decide, that's the ultimate detractor of crimes. 'Cause Devils and Gods, they are You and I…"_

_ Be seeing you._

* * *

We hover.

Outside the entrance to the room is where we started.

The twins put a stop to that. Bamby saying that we were making her nervous. Spencer just grunted something about not being incompetent lay-women.

We moved the hovering to the edge of the walkway. It lasted five minutes when Spencer poked her head outside the door and informed us that we were still sending "vibes" inside and it was throwing their "mojo" off.

Currently, Ann and I are leaning against Frankie and trying to think of our next steps. Nikki went to rouse the night manager and get the full folio on Addison. I think she just wanted to leave the two of us to fret together.

I am thankful. I need to see where my friend's head is at.

Inching over, I snake my hand around Ann's waist, bypassing her gun, cuffs and extra clips to settle on her far hip and offer a squeeze. She slumps against me, leaning her head on my shoulder and I rest my cheek on top of her head.

The night sky is once again clear. The storm from a few days ago has past. For mid-September, we're having some pretty nice weather. I wonder where else it would be pretty right now?

Southern California? Texas, maybe? The Florida Keys?

Some place tropical and warm where the sun shines and at night, the evenings are still warm enough to not need a jacket.

"Let's send them away," I think out loud. "We don't need to tell them, just shove the tickets, a packed bag and some sun screen in their hands when we drop them off at the airport."

Ann snickers. "Who?"

"Jill, Nikki, my mom, brothers, Lee, Jill's parents. You pick…"

"We could send all of them," she sighs and wraps her arms around my waist, burrowing into my side and burying her face in the crook of my neck.

"Hmm," I hum. "Good idea."

Her laugh is bitter, hollow. It's a sound I'm not used to hearing come from her. It causes my chest to tighten in ways I don't like to think about.

"Nikki'd kill me if I send her away," I admit. "She'll kill me, bring me back, kick my ass and then kill me again for even suggesting it."

Ann just nods her reply against me and I sigh.

"I can't send Jill away," Ann mumbles against the skin of my neck. Her lips causing a slight tremor to course down my spine. Her warm breath causes goose bumps. "I was thinking about it before you called us down here. Send her and her family away. I can't."

"'Cause she wouldn't go?" I try to figure out.

Ann finally picks her head up to look at me. The tears that she's preventing from falling magnify her pretty blue eyes and she shakes her head then shrugs. "Well, probably, she'd kill me too if she knew." My friend runs a hand through her disheveled hair and pushes it back off her face. "What I mean," she clenches her eyes shut and tightens the hold on her brown locks, "is that I _can't_. I need to see her. I need to be able to touch her. It'll drive me crazy. What if he chases after her instead? What if she's too far away from me to get to in time?" Ann shakes her head and drops her hand to her side.

I reach out and catch the tear that leaked from the corner of her left eye and wipe it on my jeans.

"Having her by me keeps me grounded," she whimpers and I take hold of her hand. "So," she breathes and shudders before opening her eyes, "I'm a selfish bitch, and it's not a horrible idea, but I can't."

I only nod.

There's really not much else to say to that.

I feel the same about Nikki.

I may joke, but it'd kill me to think that he went after her and I couldn't get to her.

"Then we need to tell her, Annie," I say gently. "She needs to be in the loop so she can keep an eye out for anything funny."

She nods and agrees, "I'll tell her when we get home."

I'm about to tell her that we should go home when Nikki comes sauntering back, paperwork in hand.

Ann sees her approach and excuses herself, "I'm going to go check on the girls. I'll be back in a few and then we can head home once they've wrapped the scene up?"

I nod and watch her retreat, only feeling Nikki slide in next to me and tuck me into her side.

"You okay?" she asks kissing the top of my head.

I shrug.

"I'm not sure," I admit. "I'm worried."

"For who?" she asks gently, smoothing my hair down and running her nails along my scalp.

"Her. You. Jill. Hell, babe, take your pick," I admit a little bitterly. "We've seen this guy's work."

"I'll be more at ease once we close this case too, sug," she agrees with me.

I right myself a little; just enough to crane my neck back and look her over. Her brown eyes shine a deep shade of black and her mouth is turned down ever so slightly. I press a firm, closed mouth kiss to her lips, soaking in the warmth, reassurance and love she offers as her hands take hold of my hips to press harder against her.

Eventually, the kiss dissolves into a few light pecks and I end up resting my head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.

"Love you, Nik," I say quietly as I see Ann approach.

She kisses the top of my head and nods. "Me too."

"So, the Bobbsey Twins are wrapping it up and told us to go. You two ready to get home or should you just go rent a room?" Ann finally manages a smile. It's fake and completely forced.

I'll give her credit for effort though.

"Please," Nikki hisses. "I'd be caught dead naked at the D.A.R. before I rented a room here."

"Too low-class?" Ann teases her.

"Hell no," Nikki doesn't let it get to her. "Nora's allergic to shag carpeting. Her ass'd get a rash and I'd never hear the end of it!"

I push off her and roll my eyes.

"You've spoilt the working-class girl I met ages ago," Ann says letting Nikki wrap her arm across her shoulders.

"You know she's caving on the maid?" Nikki's conspiratorial whisper does not go unheard of by me.

Ann cuts me a look and winks. "Next thing you know, Nik, she'll be wanting a chauffeur."

They giggle together like a couple of school girls at my expense. I glare and decide on the best way to give as good as I'm getting, but when Ann looks up at me, the smile she has is genuine. I let their teasing go and decide that my annoyance isn't much of a price to see that smile.


	5. Wasted Grace

**Ch. 5 – Wasted Grace**

My intent was to slip quietly into the bedroom and try not to wake Jill. It's close to two in the morning and neither of us has gotten much sleep over the past forty-eight hours. I stop short as I ease through the doorway surprised to see that my wife is still awake and dressed.

She looks up over the frames of her glasses and smiles at me. Her stocking clad feet are crossed and wiggling a little. The jeans and green tank top she has on pull my eyes in the proper direction, over the swell of her hips, up to her chest and along her neck to finally her eyes.

I offer her a weary grin back. She sets the book, a worn copy of The Price of Salt, on the nightstand next to the bed and tilts her head. The smile falls away and she squints at me. "What?" she asks.

Turning towards the dresser, I shuck my jacket over the back of a chair and start taking off my gun and badge. "Why are you dressed?" I ask as I turn around and toe off my shoes. I leave them next to the dresser and hop on the bed awaiting her answer.

"I went out," she says vaguely, her tone a little more biting due to my own obvious annoyance.

I pause halfway up the bed and remind myself that she doesn't know and taking this out on her…

Epically stupid on my part.

As I raise my head, I offer a sheepish smile. "Where to?" I ask softly, more teasing and coaxing than the accusatory tone tinting my previous question.

"Phantoms, babe." Her head cocks to the side. "I was antsy after you three left." She tugs my right arm from underneath me and forces me to lie on her side.

I comply and rest my head in the crook of her arm then tangle our legs together. "You saw Cass?"

"And I finally met Gabby," she says lightly.

I grunt. Nor told me about this Gabby woman and her affiliations with a gang.

"Don't go all judgmental, Annie," Jill chides softly and begins to run her fingers through my hair. "She's actually nice once you get her talking, it just takes a bit."

I would normally laugh. Jill could get a mute to talk, but if she tells me it takes a bit, that means that I couldn't get her to talk with an injection of phenobarbital.

"She's a high-level gang member, Jill," I say instead and hope it conveys my level of displeasure.

"She hasn't been arrested; Nora and Nikki both have instilled a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy when they're around her. Just because she is, it doesn't make her a bad person and in all honesty, Ann Louise, it's not our place." Yep, we're on the same page here – the annoyed one. Damnit.

I roll my eyes. "I still don't like it," I pout and lace my hands around her waist, drawing her in closer.

"You're a pain in my fucking ass is what you are," she grouses back at me and pecks the top of my head.

"As long as I'm yours," I shrug, "The rest is irrelevant."

"Hmm, cheesy save. You've been taking pointers from my Nora," she observes wisely. "Besides, Cass trusts her. That's enough for me. It was enough for those two upstairs. I would hope it would be enough for you too."

"Fine, I'll keep my mouth shut." A slight pinch begins to build along the left side of my neck so I shift our positions and pull her down on top of me. The pillows don't cooperate, so I toss three of the five on the floor and use one to stuff under my head. Jill happily settles her long frame over the left half of my body and tucks the top of her head under my chin.

She grabs my right hand and starts playing with it. My left hand gets tucked behind my head. "Sorry we ducked out almost as soon as we got in tonight," I say once we're settled. "How'd the rest of your day go?"

Jill shrugs. "I wasn't surprised and it was fine. Jen's kinda funny. We had sex in her office."

"Uh-huh, was she any good?" I go along with this.

"She was okay. Enthusiastic." Jill can't keep in her giggle.

"Remind me tomorrow morning and I'll make sure to remind of you of why you keep me around," I tease her and kiss the top of her head.

That doesn't set well with her and she leans up to peck my lips. I accept it gladly.

She pulls away and purrs, "You were reminding me right before Nora called us down here if I remember correctly. You did okay." She sticks her tongue out at me and then goes back to nuzzling my neck. "Really, it was cool. There's a fuck ton of shit to do, so I can keep busy. Keep me off your back, but Annie…I…don't pull anymore shit. With Nora and Nikki and their co-workers helping you guys out, don't burn out on me, please?"

I bite my lip, unsure of myself. I don't know if I can keep that promise and I won't make it if I can't. I close my eyes and the hotel room we just came from floats in front of me. The pictures of Jill and me at the premiere, of us standing there with Jill's shit eating grin and looking stunning in the blue gown she had on. Then an image of her grumbling around the kitchen before she has coffee, hair a mess, glasses on, dressed in only pajama bottoms and a tank top.

I swallow and say, "I can't promise you that this time, Jill." She tenses. The sharp intake of breath is enough for me to start on damage control. "Baby, please just hear me out. Please?" I beg.

She stays silent, but the hand that was toying with my right one is taken away. She tucks it into her body and waits.

"I…there was a development in the case, when that body was found in Virginia, the unsub uh…" I draw in a breath trying to stay calm. "Okay, the unsub left a letter directly addressed to me. There was a veiled threat and now…" I bite my lip. "With our primary suspect dead, here in New Orleans and the letter and photos recovered at the hotel tonight…"

"He's made it personal," Jill clips finishing my confession off.

"Yes. There were pictures of you, me, Nora, Nikki and Lee at the hotel tonight. A letter, addressed to me was recovered also," I admit as quietly as possible, hoping that maybe if I don't say it loudly the threat will be less than what I know it to be.

"So what do we do?" she finally asks.

"Dunno," I painfully admit.

"I could start walking around strapped, you could drop a tip to TMZ…totally up my street cred," she jokes with me.

My response is a pitiful laugh. "No, I don't really want you to carry a gun. Besides, you'd probably shoot your eye out."

I get a smack to my tummy and an indignant huff. "So then…what? 'Cause you're fucking crazier than I think if you think I'm leaving you."

"I thought about it, but then nixed the idea. You'd kill me," I tell her honestly.

"Damn skippy." She punctuates with a bony finger to my sternum.

"How about some body guards?" I venture. Really it's not an optimal solution, but her having protection would settle me some.

"Uh, how about no. Annie, I'm not glass," she tries to reason with me.

"No, baby, you're flesh and blood and bones and I've seen what this fucker does with that." I sigh. "I didn't think you'd go for that either, but I figured it was worth a shot."

"Well, points for effort, deductions on stupidity," she tries to kid, but really, it falls flat and it comes out a little snippy. "How are Nikki and Nora handling this?"

"We're all in the same boat. Nora brought up shipping you and Nikki off together…"

"Then she realized how fucking stupid that would be?" Jill goes back to fiddling with my hand.

"Uh-huh." I close my eyes and focus on the pattern of Jill's breathing. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was fried. Jill knows this and briefly untangles us to strip down to just her panties. When she comes back to me, I watch as she snaps open my jeans, tugs them off and drops them to the floor. Straddling my thighs, she motions me up.

She removes my t-shirt and bra before letting me settle back down against the bed. I close my eyes and let her do her thing. I feel the covers pull out from under me and she brings them over us. Going back to snuggling against my side, she pecks the corner of my mouth and whispers, "Get some sleep, babe. Love you."

"Me too," I mumble before drifting off.

* * *

"You sure this is okay?" I look at Nora and Nikki as they finish setting Jill up at Nora's desk. After talking it over with our friends during breakfast this morning, they agreed, for which I'll be eternally grateful that Jill should at least be around people.

That prompted a call to Dan and getting Jill clearance to set up camp in the squad room. I'm not sure how well this will go over with the unit as a whole, but Dan's been a sweetheart about it and got my wife a swipe badge so she can come and go as needed. He got her access to the precinct gym in case she gets bored with her reading and listening to music.

"Annie," Jill's tone is syrupy, "I love you, but I swear if you don't stop the nervous nelly bullshit, I'm putting you on the couch."

I suck my lips in and clamp down. I just nod. Message received loud and clear.

"I've got two books, hours worth of music and phone calls to vendors to make. You three go finish this so that I can go back to the apartment without sending my three favorite ladies into cardiac arrest." She bats her lashes at the three of us and makes shooing motions with her hands.

"Come on," Nora is the first to break. "I'm sure everyone else is back in the conference room by now."

I start to follow, but Nikki still stands there, hands on hips and looking my wife over. "Go Nikki," Jill's insistent.

"Why don't you two go on ahead," Nikki speaks to Nora and me. "I'll be there in a sec." It'd be funny under different circumstances, but we all eyeball each other. Nora and I trying to figure out Nikki's game that for some reason, I can tell Jill already knows about.

"Let's go, Nora," I finally cave and grab a hold of Nora's belt loop to tug her along. "Leave the crazy brunettes to plot and scheme without us."

My friend tutters the entire way to the conference room. I finally let her go when we get to the door and push open the half closed chunk of wood. I stop short and realize it's a full house. Spencer and Bamby have usurped the coffee station and set up camp there. Their beloved Macbooks set together and match, just like their owners.

I shake my head and press forward. John looks up from a stack of photos and scowls. I give him a tight lipped smile. "Morning folks," I offer feebly as Nora rounds the other side of the table to take her seat from yesterday.

"Well, look what the cat done drug in," Jesse Furlan says, giving a pointed look to Nora. "Why Det. Delaney, your cohorts were just talkin' about you. Wonderin' if you'd ever show today."

Nora's smile is brief and biting. "Stuff it, Furlan. You damn well know we were at the hotel last night."

"Now, Nora," Det. Barrett wiggles his eyebrows at my friend, "I didn't think you'd engage in such liaisons that would take you to a place like the Starlight."

This earns him the finger and a muffled "Shut the fuck up," from Nora. "Are we going to rib me the entire day?" Nora snips. "If so, then I'm reneging on my agreement to help out when Mr. Mom goes on paternity leave."

"Ouch," Georgia whistles. "Leave the cranky one alone, Barrett. Rosie'll have your ass."

"So," I say trying to take the focus off my friend and on to the actual case, "Anything fun since last night?"

Bamby takes the opening for what it's worth and jumps in, "Now that you mention it there is." She spins away from her computer and the credenza and stands. "Before I begin my little show and tell, I'd like to remind you all that, being the amazing people, that's me and Spencer, we are, our expectations of your performance is in no way over shadowed by how impressively awesome we are."

Travis and Lucy are holding back on laughing. The New Orleans bunch are just sort of looking gob smacked by Bamby's little speech.

"Definitely your daughter, partner," I snicker to John.

"Blow me, Flemming," he snips back.

Nora huffs, "Do you have a point short stack?"

This breaks a little of the tension in the room and Bamby beams, shooting my friend a wink. "Why I'm glad you asked. When we got back to the hotel, Spencer and I were discussing the crap load of paper that we have. In fact, you guys are pretty much buried under it and well, it's wholly inefficient. We put together something last night that's corrected it."

Bamby moves to the head of the table where a projector sits and pushes a button on top. The machine whirs to life and she steps out of the bright beam of light. Motioning to Spencer, Bamby waits for whatever she's done to load on to the wall to my left.

"Sorry," Nikki grins sheepishly at the bunch as she finally enters the room and shuts the door behind her. The brunette makes quick work of taking her spot next to Nora and leans in to whisper to her.

Nora just shakes her head and points to the front of the room.

A computer screen finally pops up and Bamby starts back up, "We took the liberty of scanning Addison's detailed military record into Spencer's computer last night. Wrote a program that would help sort the images and then identify anything repetitive. There were some hot spots that the program picked up as it ran last night and we just finished sorting through the extraneous data."

"Bamby," I warn. I love her to pieces, but sometimes…

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Sometimes, Aunt Ann, you spoil all my fun."

"Get on with it, kiddo," John interjects.

"Dennis Addison had a few friends in the military. Not many, but we have three names that we think you'll be interested in. Peyton Davison, Chris Abbinanti and Justin Cager." The names and their I.D.'s pop up on the screen behind her. "Now, this is where I need help. Gen. Malone," she looks at her father, "You need to call Lt. Stephanie Rice at the State Department and get us the records. Also, you're welcome." She takes a deep bow and then flounces back to her work station.

"Fuckin' smartass," John grumbles as he has his phone to his ear. I smirk.

* * *

"Did you get any sleep last night?" John asks as he shuts Frankie's passenger door. "And sweet ride. Nora's?"

I nod. "A few years ago, Nikki was in a shoot up that totaled Nora's first baby, June Lee, and this is the machine Nikki replaced it with." I pat the dashboard as Frankie rumbles to life.

"I'm kind of jealous." John's playful which can go one of two ways, he's buttering me up to rip me a new one or he's in a genuine good mood. "Answer the question, Ann."

And I'm going with butter. "I did. We got home and I was asleep before three. We didn't drag ourselves out of bed till eight so…five hours give or take."

"Calling me to help work the hotel room was what, too much fucking effort?" he snaps at me. I take a glance away from the road and see him leaning against the passenger door with his arms folded across his chest.

I make sure he see's my eye roll before going back to looking at the road. "We weren't sure what to expect and I wasn't dragging the whole team out for a goose chase," I answer and ignore the irritation.

"You found pictures and another letter," he says, this time with less irritation, the worry's there, in his softer tone. "He's followed the four of you and Lee."

"Way to state the obvious. You also want to tell me that the target we have on our backs is red and white or should I just assume?" I signal left and head towards the Subway we called our lunch order in to.

"Oh, don't you fucking dare," John hisses. "Didn't we fucking have this conversation Ann?"

I suck in a lungful of air. Letting it out slowly does nothing for the anger bubbling up. I thought deep breathing was supposed to be calming?

He takes my silence as permission to rant, "This isn't a recent thing for this unsub. He's been watching you guys longer than you want to admit. Shall I rattle off the statistics on stalking and the rates of violence…?"

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he ignores me. "Don't bother, it was a fucking rhetorical question, agent." I feel the vibrations from his foot shaking on the seat. "And now you have Jill camped out in the squad room so I'm assuming you told her. If I were half as smart as I thought I was, I'd pull your ass from the case and send all four of you to fucking China. Instead, I'm going to sit here and watch you be an obtuse bitch about this and let your ego jeopardize your family's lives."

I…

Is this about my ego…?

My mouth opens to respond, but no sound comes out.

I don't know.

Shaking my head, I have to believe it's not.

"It's not…" I try to sound sure, but fall off.

"Bullshit," he gripes. "It is, because you know we're cut from the same cloth, Ann. We're better than this piece of shit and I can't wait 'till we come face to face. I have a glock that'll be happy to tell him."

A derisive snort escapes. So at least it's not just my ego… "You worry me sometimes."

He shrugs. "Killing people's never been much of a problem, Ann."

I don't know if that helps or not.

His foot stills and I see him right himself in the seat. Pulling up outside the Subway, I put Frankie in park and let her idle. I take a moment to gather the pieces of myself that John scattered and then turn to him.

His broad shoulders are slumped, the shirt he's wearing is rumpled and I'm just now noticing the darker than normal circles running under his eyes. "You done?" I ask softly. I kill the engine and pocket the keys then scootch across the seat to sit shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Maybe," he grumbles, "I'm still pretty pissed, but I wasn't going to do that in front of the team. I may feel better after we eat."

His tongue lashings usually aren't about the words he uses. They're about his tone and more about what he doesn't say. Like how Jill being at the station tells him that I'm more worried than I'm showing him. That I've held back on talking to him and keeping the lines of our relationship clear and open for communication. The ass chewing he just gave me…that was about him feeling left out.

"I'm sorry," I apologize and take my lumps. "I wasn't thinking last night and I should have had you come out as soon as we found the envelope. I should have called you this morning and gave you a heads up on Jill coming in and I should have called you and told you that I'm sorry."

"Apology not accepted yet." I'll take that. "So, moving on, we have three potential suspects. Thoughts?"

I snicker. "You mean besides the praying I've been doing since Bamby gave us the names that one of them will lead somewhere?"

"Yeah," he says picking at something stuck to his slacks on his thigh.

"I think our profile is still good. I think that one of the three men will pan out because if not, we're out of options. I think the sonuvabitch isn't as smart as he thinks he is and he's fucked up somewhere and we just haven't found it yet. I also think that Addison wasn't supposed to end up dead. Something about the way he was found, where and how seems…off, rushed and sloppy."

John bobs his head and then runs a hand through his hair to comb it back off his forehead. The unruly lock that was bugging him is persistent and falls back into place. "Bamby said that she and Spencer are going to finish the analysis up on the room and the autopsy today. Once we get back with their food. Nora said Ophoven's good and Bamby was gushing about him over breakfast this morning so…"

"Having competent people around makes a world of difference," I say smiling.

"Amen," John agrees. "How'd Jill handle the news?"

I shrug. "About as well as expected. She won't leave and she's not going to take me up on the body guards I offered to hire."

"You didn't?" he asks incredulously.

"Fucking right I did. Hell, I'd keep her handcuffed to me if I could, but…"

John snorts and shakes his head. "You're an idiot."

I bob my head.

"Stephanie hooked us up though. So when we get back, we'll start tearing apart the three men's lives. See if they fit anywhere. Although it kinda sucks for them, guilt by association and all that shit," he admits to me and I can only agree.

"We could make this go quicker," I suggest allowing the thought to firm up in my head before I continue. "If we're thinking that the military is where Addison met the unsub, I'm still trying to figure out how the women were chosen. I mean, the geographics are all over the place…"

"Literally," he pokes at me.

"Yep, I wonder how close military bases are to each kill location?" I wonder aloud. "There's a lot of opportunism that goes into committing a crime. The right elements have to fall into place. What if the places were chosen not out of meticulous forethought…"

"But pure dumb luck?" John fills in.

"Why not?" I venture with a shrug.

"It might help narrow things quicker. We'll look when we get back." He pops open the door and slides out. Reaching back in, he extends his hand and pulls me through the passenger door. "Food first though, partner. I think better on a full stomach."


	6. Violent Amends

**Ch. 6 – Violent Amends**

The chatter in the room is enthusiastic to say the least. The headache I have is similar. Nora must know because she's been kneading the back of my neck over the past few minutes trying to get the knot she found to go away.

I appreciate the effort and let our colleagues do all the work. Benny and Lucy have been working on using the wall opposite us as a case board, they have all five vics up. A head shot is at top and below that their information, crime scene photos and other pertinent details. On the far right of the vics closest to the door is a picture of our new person of interest, Peyton Davison.

We spent the entire afternoon and a good part of the evening vetting the other two names. It was unanimously agreed upon that neither were viable candidates. Abbinanti wasn't in the right age bracket and also, he's been in the hospital for a week after having quadruple bypass surgery. Cager was in the right age range, but nothing else fit. Lucy said he was too stupid and wondered how he ended up as a combat medic.

John's guess was that he was a runner and just loaded in bodies.

We were left with Mr. Davison.

A middle-aged, Army E.M.T. who hits all the bullets on the profile the S.I.U. team put together.

"Uh-huh," John says into the phone. "I can see how that would be problematic. Is this standard for you Sgt. Richmond?" John leans back in his chair and looks wholly unimpressed. "I can tell…Don't 'sir' me, Richmond. I want your man found and I want him found yesterday…it's need to know." John rolls his eyes and mimes the man on the other end talking with his hand. Ann smacks him on the shoulder and he frowns. "Twenty-four hours, Richmond or you'll be seeing me in person. If it comes to that, you'll be in a shit ton of hurt." John pulls the phone away from his ear and stabs the 'end' button. "Stupid doughboy."

"You done whining?" Ann asks from her spot on top of the conference table. Her thigh flexes under the charcoal grey linen pants. Her right leg swings from the edge of the table.

"Yeah." John tosses his phone on top of his note pad and rubs one of his large paws down his face.

"You going to tell us why you shoved your foot up that C.O.'s ass or can I guess?" Travis asks, wiggling his eyebrows. John waves his hand and Travis takes that as his signal. "Peyton's not checked in. How long has it been, forty-eight or seventy-two hours since he's showed his face at Fort Leonard Wood?"

John's frown deepens.

"That's seventy-two," Lucy cuts in and snickers.

"Well, shit." Dom chimes in.

"Yes!" Jesse gives a little fist pump.

"I second everything," Ann says, hopping off the table. "Ladies and gentleman, we have confirmed our person of interest."

Nodding, John grumbles, "Good, maybe something on this shitting case will go our way now."

"Det. Delaney?" Spencer asks from her spot at the credenza.

"Nora works, Spencer," my partner tells her.

Nodding, the young woman asks, "You said that you had someone in A.I.S. that can help me pull Davison's full background? I know we have his military record, but Aunt Ann always like to have a full background. Can I give them a call or go see them?"

"Kiddo, let's wait until the a.m.," her father suggests. "We've covered a lot of ground today. Your sister isn't back from the morgue and I'd like to have some dinner that has some type of protein. Why don't we call it?" he looks around the room and every single one of us nods.

"We can pick up tomorrow and maybe Nora, if you don't mind, take her to see your contact?" Ann asks.

"Sure, it's Luke, by the way." Nora stands and starts to shuffle the piles of files in front of us in to a somewhat orderly stack. "Spencer, why don't I meet you at the hotel tomorrow morning and I'll take you over and introduce you?"

"Sure," the doctor agrees and picks up her phone. "Bamby says she and Dr. Ophoven are going to be there a while, dad. She said to just go back to the hotel or whatever."

"All right, folks, good work today," John dismisses us all as I slump back in my chair and close my eyes and focus on the sounds of everyone getting ready to go.

"You ready?" Jill's whisper causes my eyes to pop open.

"Jesus, woman!" I try and laugh off the fact that she pretty much snuck on me.

I look around and Nora and Ann are cleaning up a little. The rest of the team is gone. Huh. I think I'm more tired than I thought. "How'd the rest of the evening go for you?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Sitting around blows." Her lips purse and she sighs. "Although, given the situation, I don't think either of you three'll let me wonder around my stomping grounds unchaperoned."

Admittedly, the pout is adorable, but it won't get me to budge. I don't think it'll work on our partners either.

"You would guess right," Nora says and picks up Jill's messenger bag and hands it over to Ann.

"D'you guys want to do dinner?" Ann asks slinging the bag over her shoulder and then slipping her arms through her back pack. I frown wondering when she was downgraded to pack mule. She doesn't seem in the least bit bothered by it, so I'll just keep quiet and shake my head.

"The only thing I'm good for right now is a shower and some sleep," Nora answers and looks to me.

"Maybe," I put my two cents in. "I could be talked into some T.V. and a sandwich, but that's the extent of my commitment to the rest of the night."

"Oh, The VMA's are on." Jill sounds a little too excited as we follow behind Nora and Ann.

"You hate MTV," Ann reminds her wife and snickers.

"I do, but I like the performances, so…" the model trails off as if that's going to explain it. "Oh, and I like to see what they wear. Aldo'll probably call and play Joan Rivers."

Ann groans as we hit the bottom of the stairs. "I can't take listening to you and him through the whole thing."

I look at my friend and see her smirk. She leans in and whispers, "I do that just to annoy her."

* * *

Jill watches the uniforms in the bull pen and asks, "Did you ever consider doing something else?"

She tears her eyes away from a uniform questioning a woman sitting in a chair next to her desk and looks up at me. My left foot taps gently on a drawer as I perch along the edge of Nora's desk. I offer a noncommittal shrug. "Not really." Wondering if maybe she didn't get enough sleep last night. We all went to bed about an hour after we got home.

She seemed fine this morning, but…

Her left eyebrow rises. "You're shitting me?"

I shake my head. "I mean every job has their moments you know? The only time I ever gave it serious consideration was when Nora and I came out at work."

"Huh," she mumbles and looks around again. "I just…I look around here and I see some things that Ann does and…" She shakes her head. "I can't imagine doing this daily."

Patting her shoulder, I say, "That's probably a good thing, sugga."

"Maybe. I don't know." Her brow furrows and she pushes her hair back, trying to resettle her pin straight hair. "I think sometimes it's not enough."

"Come again?" I ask because for some reason I don't think we're having the same conversation anymore.

Her lips purse, puckering over the obvious displeasure of her thoughts. "Sometimes, and I don't need to tell you how much this stays between the two of us…" She waits for a slight nod from me, which I give her before continuing, "Okay, so a lot of the time actually, I think Annie deserves better, someone that…someone like you or Nora."

If it weren't for being brought up in the Beaumont family and the New Orleans "elite" I'm sure my jaw would be to the floor. I'm sure I didn't hear her right, but the look on her face, the pain there…no, I heard her right.

I'm just…

Kind of speechless.

"There's a rational part, a voice, that tells me that's silly, but you guys…you do a lot. You save people and help them." She shrugs her shoulders again and I'm still a little shell shocked. "Stupid, right?" she asks, finally looking back up at me.

My jaw works, I feel it move up and down a couple of times, but no sound comes out. I finally squeak out, "Why are you telling me this?"

Her mouth screws to the side and she shrugs. "Brutal moment of vocalized doubt?"

I shake my head. "You have paid attention to the woman you think you're not good enough for when you're around, right?" I scratch my temple and try to process what Jill's said.

"Yeah, but I see her interact with you and I see her interact with Nora and…it's different. You two get this side of her that I don't. I want to, but…" She looks away and sighs. "It's a side I resent because it takes her away from me, emotionally, sometimes in the literal sense too, but it could be a permanent thing. She could die and it's 'cause of that side that you and Nora get that I don't and some nights or days…it's pretty fucking hard to breathe because of it."

Jill lets out a shuddery puff air. "How do you handle that?"

Ah.

The missing pieces of this conversation sort of fall into a shape I can work with. "She'll be fine. You will be fine…"

Jill shakes her head. "You can't guarantee me that. She won't. You can't. I just don't get how you and Nora do this together. I'd like…and then with this psycho running around with a hard on for _my wife..._"

I reach to my side and grab the chair next my desk and slip into it, making sure that I'm as close to Jill as I can be. Our legs slip together and I grab her shaking hands. "Sugga, you are thinking about this all wrong."

Her head rears back and she scowls at me. "How the fuck else am I supposed to think about this? Some fucking psycho's gunning for you, for Nora, for Annie. You guys fucking sit back and act like it's business as usual, but Nikki, she's never once thought of sending me away or hiring body guards or for fuck's sake, I've never fucking camped out at a goddamn police station because she doesn't want me left alone. How the fuck else am I supposed to think about this!"

I shake my head and press a finger to her lips. "Stop," I whisper firmly. "Listen to me. Being scared is smart, Jill. Being worried and cautious is smarter still. You don't think that Nora and I don't get scared or worried or frightened about the other?" I shake my head. "If you only knew…there have been times that I swear to God my heart's stopped from sheer terror that something's happened to her. I get that. Nora gets that, too, but…" I lick my lips and remove my finger. "You need to trust her…"

"I do…" Jill insists.

"I know, but what I'm saying is that what's going on now is different. It's going to require you to trust her on a different level."

"What level would that be?" Jill spits incredulously.

"Your life. Mine. Nora's…"

"I d…"

"You do, but the unspoken rule to that trust is that she puts your life ahead of hers. She will chose yours over hers every single time, Jill and I know it doesn't seem like it's a trust thing, but it is because you don't get a say here. It's what we do," I try to explain to her.

"I don't get a say in that? That she can just fucking die on me, she can just toss away her life for…" Jill can't even choke out the words and my chest physically aches.

I manage to get out a solid, "No. Not in this."

Her face crumples, but she doesn't let the tears escape. Her jaw clenches and she spits, "Well, just…fuck that."

I can't help the snicker. She's angry. It's a good thing. It'll help her. "I know that feeling too."

She pulls a hand away from me and runs it over her face. "This fucking sucks. Like worse than anything, in the history of ever. This just fucking sucks."

"I know, sug, I know." I reach out and tuck some hair behind her ear and let my hand travel across her cheek and cup her jaw. Forcing her to look at me, I say confidently, "You'll be fine."

Her lips purse, but she doesn't say anything.

"Uh, Nik?" Nora calls out from behind Jill. She cocks her head to the side and motions at the two of us. I shake my head and she drops whatever else she was going to say in response to my position with Jill. Instead she says, "Bamby's back. We're getting ready to start."

"I'll be there in a second, Delaney." I stick my tongue out at her. "Hold your horses and give me five."

She rolls her eyes, but says nothing and disappears around the corner, leaving me with Jill again.

"I agree," I tell her and lean in and kiss her cheek. "But we do want to find this bastard and you'll be fine. Ann will be fine and for the love of all that is holy, those ridiculous thoughts that you were having about not being good enough or whatever it is that you were getting at…get it out of your head." I let her chin go and rest my hand against her cheek. "I'm pretty sure if you ask the woman in question; she'd tell you that you hung the moon. She loves you."

"I know," Jill says this time the tremor in her voice is gone. It's firm once again, free of the hurt and anger of a few moments ago. "I just…you know what it's like when you have so much to lose."

I nod.

I do.

* * *

I slip into the conference room as one of the doctor's is talking. It takes me a moment to figure out that she's talking about Charlie. I look at the other one and try to determine who is who. I haven't ever really been around twins before and these two look…exactly alike.

But their personalities…

Those are different.

It's how I tell them apart and the one speaking is Bamby. She's more animated, bubbly. I have a feeling she gets this from her father. From all that's been said about Mrs. Malone, Spencer seems to take after her.

"So, we're like elbow deep in the chest cavity and he's just this awesome chatter box. He was telling me about how Nora, his son and him occasionally go fishing and then, right there in the middle of the story, he pops out the start of the intestinal tract…"

I close my eyes and take my seat suppressing the nausea that bubbles up at her description. Thankfully, Nora leans over, drowns out Bamby's chatter and whispers, "Everything okay?"

I nod and whisper back, "You know how much I hate even thinking about what Charlie does."

Nora pulls my chair closer and says, "That's not what I was talking about."

I keep my voice as quiet as possible and say, "She just needed to vent. Everything is as good as we can expect right now."

Nora takes my word and I feel her nod against my neck before she pulls away.

"So, anyhow, Charlie's like my official brother from another mother," Bamby finishes and I come back to the conversation.

"Bae, I think we all understand that you have a big ole straight crush on the man, but can you please move this along," Spencer remarks from her spot sandwiched between Georgia and Travis.

Shrugging it off, Bamby gripes, "I'm just sayin', dude's awesome."

"I'll get you a t-shirt to take home to Christal. It can say Team Ophoven," Spencer razzes her sister a bit more.

"Pffftt, too little too late, Spence. We broke up right before we boarded to come down here." Bamby waves her off.

I'm not sure…

"What?" John asks perking up at this bit of news.

Rolling her eyes, Bamby gives a long suffering sigh and apologizes to the team, "Excuse my family and me for a minute while I catch them up." She directs her attention to John, Ann and Spencer who are all sporting equally concerned looks. "We broke up. Done. She was all pissy about my job anyhow, she was okay in bed, but she started to bitch about you," Bamby points to Spencer. "I told her to take a leap off the Washington Monument."

John and Ann look at each other and the look says, 'we'll be fucking someone up when we get back.'

"No," Bamby interrupts the silent conversation. "You will not hunt her down. Really, I'm good, dad, Aunt Ann, seriously. Let's get back to the case since no one here seems to appreciate the awesomeness of Ophoven."

This earns a round of chuckles from the table and Bamby winks at her sister.

The other one shakes her head, but the smile can't be hid.

"So back to the actual findings on the autopsy. Show of hands for good news first?" Bamby folds her arms across her chest and waits for us to comply.

A few hands are raised.

"Bad news first?" she asks and the same ones that raised their hands for the good news raise it for the bad. She huffs, "You guys suck. I'll just have to do this my way."

She goes to a stack of glossy eight-by-tens and tacks them up on the wall. All are clinical autopsy photos and I'm assuming key points of interest for her and the findings. "There are several notable differences to the signature of our unsub's killing. I know we've got Davison as our P.O.I., but I'll wait for better confirmation. Our primary identifiers have been manipulated here. Addison was not killed over a matter of days. The estimation that we were able to generate from the evidence collected indicates that he was killed pretty quickly. Tox screens came back negative for the standard levels of epinephrine and cocaine in the system that we've seen with the previous victims."

She goes to tap the photos of each of the women and continues, "We know that he kept them alive for days as he excised the skin on the face. We know that he was deliberate, meticulous and allowed them to even out before he began taking more skin." She walked over to the photo of Addison.

Tapping his picture, she shakes her head. "I can't decide if Addison was lucky or not in those regards. The attack was sudden. There are contusions and lacerations consistent along the arms and hands to indicate defensive markings. He put up a fight. A pretty good one by the fracture left behind on his left forearm. Addison's C.O.D. was cardiac arrest; Charlie and I are willing to speculate that it was brought on by shock due to the amount of pain he was in."

"Why shock?" Lucy asks.

Bamby presses her lips together and apologies to the group, "If you haven't ate breakfast yet, lunch isn't going to sound too hot right now, so I'm sorry." She licks her lips and taps a photo of a head shot of Addison. "Addison's face wasn't removed in strips. There was one cut made along the forehead before, what we can only determine by the damage to the tissue in the surrounding areas, before his face was literally ripped off."

Well, there goes my hope at lunch.

"Oh," Spencer hisses, "ew."

Bamby shrugs. "I warned you."

"I'm so not taking you up on an internship again," Spencer gripes and folds her arms over her chest.

"So it was quick and violent," Ann surmises across from me.

Bamby nods. "Really, super-duper, extra violent with a side of frenzy."

"Wonder what Addison did to piss him off?" Benny asks.

"What?" Travis perks up from his spot next to him.

"Well, I know we're thinkin' that they weren't working together or whatever, but buddy, if it were me, doing that to someone…I'd have to be pretty pissed off to fuck up my ritual," Benny explains.

"That's a pretty big leap," John agrees with Travis.

"Not really," I step up and defend Benny's point. I agree with it. "If Addison was a stooge in all of this, I'd definitely take my time with him. I'd want him to look like the others. This was clearly not the case. Something triggered our guy. Addison did something or something happened for him to take out that kind of aggression on the man."

"And," Ann pipes in, "location and other markers really don't fit the pattern. This wasn't planned. It was spontaneous and done out of anger."

John's face sours at the implication. "Well, hell."


	7. Corrupted By the Simple

**Ch. 7 – Corrupted by the Simple**

"Det. Delaney," Randy Cavanaugh greets me as we pull up to the department's impound lot. "How've you been?" The man's as cheerful as ever, with his graying hair and wide smile. He's way too happy to greet us this morning. "Why don't ya'll pull around and I'll walk you back?"

I give him a little salute and he chuckles. I follow his instructions, parking next to the booth he sits in most of the day. Killing the engine, Ann and I step from Frankie and wait for Randy to meet up with us at the front of the car.

He flips a sign in the window that says 'Ring for service' and locks his office up. His gate is slightly hitched due to a bum right leg he got in a car accident when he was younger. You'd think it'd slow him down, but he keeps up with even the youngest of cops that come through here.

"Well?" he asks looking me over.

I laugh a little and pump his outstretched hand. "I've been all right. I'll be better if the vehicle you're holding for us is the one we're after. Also, this is a good friend and colleague, Assistant Special Agent in Charge Ann Flemming." I turn to Ann, making sure to give Randy her full title and say to her, "This is the man with the keys to the kingdom, Randy Cavanaugh."

"Nice to meet you," Randy takes Ann's hand and gives it a few quick pumps. He turns his attention back to me and waggles his finger. "For a minute there, Delaney, I thought you went and replaced my girl." He tsks and gives me the old hand motions for being in trouble, his right index finger gets repeatedly brushed over his extended left one. "We'd be needin' to have ourselves a talk."

"Randy," I playfully warn as he motions us along towards the back of the lot.

"Now, as pretty as this one you got with you is, that partner of yours still got a place in this old ticker," he says and taps his chest.

I roll my eyes and agree, "I know. She said to say hello by the way. She'd have come with us, but she's working with Ann's partner and they needed to follow up on a few other things. So tell me, when was this brought in?"

We hang a right after a long row of cars and Randy ambles along, filling us in as we weave our way through his domain. "A uni had it towed here over night, found it over in the Sixth by the Irish Channel abandoned. So when I came in this morning and started on the intakes, I 'member seein' a flag come out about delivery trucks and then your name was attached so…"

"We appreciate it," Ann tells him.

We take a left and there the truck sits. On the outside it looks just like a regular delivery van for UPS. If it were left somewhere it wouldn't garner much attention for a while.

"Well, here she is." He pats the side panel of the van. "The kid that brought her in already popped the padlock on the back and the side doors. I'm not sure if that'll help ya'all, but you should have no trouble gettin' in."

Patting Randy on the shoulder, I nod. "Thanks."

Dipping his chin, he says, "Lemme know if you need anything else. I'll be in my box." He turns on his heel and limps away from us and the van.

I look at my friend and motion my head towards the van. "Ready?"

Ann's lips pucker and she shrugs. "Guess it really doesn't matter." She pulls a sheet of paper from her jacket pocket and looks at the truck's windshield where the VIN numbers are. Nodding, she lets me know, "We have a match."

I produce two sets of gloves from my jacket pocket and hand one pair off. I slip on the blue Nitrile gloves and we head towards the back. The rolling door isn't open and the busted lock is in the hook that it should be in. I reach out and move the broken metal while Ann grabs the lever and tugs it back, releasing the doors latch.

With a good shove upwards, the door rolls up soundlessly on the track to reveal a spotless interior. Lights along the top of the compartments ceiling flicker to fully expose the interior. What was once a delivery truck has been remodeled to look like the inside of an exam room. In the middle of the left wall, there's a small sink and mirror, the back has a stainless steel table that looks like it could be in Charlie's autopsy suit.

Directly opposite the sink there's a built in stainless steel cabinet. The flooring of the compartment looks to be a nonporous rubber material and there's a drainage lever in the center.

"What do you think?" I ask my partner in crime for the day.

Ann's eyes are still studying the truck, taking in all of the details while she chews on her lower lip. Shaking her head, she puts her hands on her hips and says, "I don't think I want to contaminate anything. Let's call the twins and have them come out to process."

"What about the cab?" I wonder and as she pulls her phone out of her left hip pocket and fires off a quick text message.

"We'll go through that while we wait on Bamby and Spencer to get here. I let John know as well. He'll probably either want to be here or he'll want this towed somewhere so the girls can rip it apart."

"You think this is his?" I ask and poke at the rubbery floor. Whoever did this spent a lot of time and energy in converting it over.

"I do. I just want to make sure and I want to cross our 't's and dot our 'I's, you know?" she says while looking at her cell phone. "Okay, Bamby, Spencer, Nikki and John are both on their way."

Her phone gets put back in her pocket and she steps on to the bumper, tugs on the strap to bring the door down and secures it again. I replace the busted padlock and we head to the front of the vehicle.

"You really think there's anything left back there?" I ask because knowing what we know about this guy, I'm hard pressed to think that he'd chance leaving anything behind. If he abandoned the truck he did so intentionally.

"I don't know, but if there is anything, we'll find and hopefully use it," Ann answers me as we each take a side of the cab. She slips into the driver's side and I take what would be the passenger's side.

The glove compartment is empty and Ann fishes underneath the driver's seat coming up empty handed. Sighing I shut the lid and look at Ann. She's practically vibrating right now and this isn't going to help.

"Come on," I motion her out of the truck and take hold of her right above her elbow. I lead us back the way Randy brought us and explain, "Looking at nothing isn't helping either of us. Randy has some killer coffee in the box he calls an office. We'll wait and have a cup."

Ann grunts at me, but allows herself to be led away.

I think it's going to be another long day.

* * *

Dan's office is quiet, dark and exactly what the doctor ordered to let me eat my lunch in peace…well, there's Dan, but he's not so bad.

We sit quietly, elbow to elbow devouring the burgers I brought back for us. It almost feels like we're partners again and just enjoying lunch. It's been a long time since we've taken regular lunches together. I guess the changes over the past few months have been good…

For both of us.

I will say, it's reminded me of why we worked so well together. It's hard sometimes, to try and remember what everything was like before Nikki. Things were…some things weren't so good, but others…

Stuff or people like having my old partner were good.

I'll be regretting the lunch choice the next time I hit the gym, but for now, I'll enjoy the treat. I pop the last bite of burger in my mouth and crumple up the greasy wax paper that held my lunch. Eyeing up the waste paper basket by his door, I shoot and get a 'good shoot' as it hits the nothing but air before hitting the bottom of the can with a quiet thump.

"Well, those pickup games at the center haven't hurt my game," I say with a smile.

His elbow knocks into mine and he smiles around a mouthful of French fries. "Yeah, well, you just wait 'till I get you alone again…" he threatens and wiggles his eyebrows.

I take the last few sips of my coke and shrug. I watch him as he finishes up the rest of his lunch before I gather his trash and the rest of mine to throw away.

"How's the case going?" he finally asks. He's been dying to know. I'm surprised he held out for the fifteen minutes it took us to eat. Usually, he'd have started pumping me for information as soon as we sat down.

I shrug. "We found the van, confirmed the suspect and are processing a ton of evidence," I grunt. Truthfully, while all of that is well and good, we still don't know where this fucker's at.

It's getting on my damn nerves.

"Any leads on where or who's had contact with him?" Dan asks. It's fairly predictable. Our minds work in a similar way and if I was him, on the outside and looking in at this, I would be thinking the same thing.

"Nothing right now," I say and stand to toss our trash. "When I go back we'll probably start a new canvas." The pile of paper and empty cups join the wrapper from my burger before I turn back towards my old partner.

He's moved from his seat and is now perched on the edge of his desk. His hands are laced on top of his head and the shirt sleeves of the pale purple button up he's wearing are rolled up. The black tie hangs loose around his neck and the few top buttons of the shirt are undone.

His head cocks to the side as he studies me and I can't help but ask, "What?"

I watch him struggle with wording, his jaw working open then closing a few times before he finally settles on something that he wants to say. "John filled me in on what's going on, Nora."

Shit.

I make a face and shake my head. "We're good right now."

His eyebrow cocks. "You sure?"

"Yeah," I sigh and wipe my palms on the sides of my legs. "I mean it has Jill and Ann nervous. Thanks for that by the way."

"I just don't see why you didn't tell me the real reason you guys wanted Jill here at the station." His hands drop to his sides and he stands. He invades my space and gently takes hold of my arms, right above my elbow.

I let him press up against me and hold me in place. I search his eyes and see the concern, the worry and the fear. His jaw muscles bunch and distort the stubbly skin that covers them.

"I'm sorry," I say honestly, quietly.

"You're impossible sometimes," he grumbles. I shrug. He's right. His tongue darts out and he licks his lips. "I…have you talked to Nikki yet?"

I sigh and try to push him away now. The guilt from the past few months coils in the pit of my stomach and tightens my chest. I really don't want to have this conversation. The one he's been pressing for for at least a month. "Dan," I warn quietly.

He doesn't let me go. Instead his grip tightens a little. "I'm…Nora, I get it, really, but you need to tell her. She has a right to know."

I look away from the pleading brown eyes and focus on the purple fabric in front of me.

"You have to decide what's best for you," he says gently. "That's what I want from all of this – that and for you to be happy."

I'm about to respond, but his door is pushed open. John's head pokes through and stops as we turn to him. Dan only letting one of my arms go as we twist in the man's direction. "Uh…" he stammers and his face pinches. Ann's partner recovers quickly and he gets out, "The kids are back. We've a briefing in five."

I nod. "Be there in a minute," I say and he disappears just as quickly as he came.

We wait until the door clicks shut and I turn back to my old partner. He's still giving me that annoyingly affective wounded look and I shake my head.

"I'll tell her," I whisper. "I promise. I just need…"

"Time?" he asks trying to bite back the hurt in the question.

I nod. "I need to figure out how, this won't be easy."

I use my free hand and run it back through my hair, willing him to understand.

"Okay," he finally concedes.

"I need to…" I trail off and look behind me to the door.

"Go," he says letting my arm go.

I can't help myself. I wrap him up in a hug and give him a peck to the cheek. "Soon, partner." I mumble against the skin. "I'll tell her soon."

I feel him nod before I turn away and head to the briefing, wondering just how much time he'll actually give me.

* * *

The entire task force is sitting in the conference room by the time I get there. John and Ann are quietly talking at the front and the rest of the team…

They all look about the same. Benny and Travis are talking quietly, Dom's firing off a text message, Lucy, Georgia and Jesse are looking over paperwork, the doctors are reviewing God knows what on their computers and Nikki, my Nikki's looking at me.

I give a quick shake of my head to banish the last bit of conversation I had with Dan to refocus. It doesn't help when Nikki's sitting next to my chair and I feel the now familiar rock of guilt that's taken residence in my stomach.

Her head slightly cocks to the side in question as I round the table and take my seat. I swallow the knot in my throat and suppress the urge to come clean right then and there, but…

This isn't the time and really isn't the place either.

"You okay?" she whispers at me. She leans right so that our voices stay low.

I arch into her and cast a quick glance around. No one is even sort of paying attention to us, so I give her a quick peck on the cheek. The smooth skin startles me after just having given one to Dan. His cheeks, even right after he's shaved are still a little rough. The contrast is startling and I shrink back in my chair.

"Nora, baby?" Her eyes are a little wide, her voice a little high.

"Good," I mumble. "Just…" I trail off unsure of what to even say to her.

Her brow furrows, but she nods. "I get it," she tries to reassure me.

I don't know what she thinks she gets, but I know it's not what's going on in my head right now. There's no way she would know or could even guess. I wasn't expecting Dan to do what he did months ago. We went out for drinks, he drug me out while Nikki was at some function and…

Everything changed.

Months later and I'm still sitting on a fence that's starting to hurt.

"Okay," John interrupts my thoughts and brings everyone's attention to the head of the table. "Good to see everyone made it." His gaze sweeps over the room and then lands on me. It lingers and I feel the flush spread over my cheeks. The look stretches for a few more moments before he breaks it and looks down at the report in his hands. "We're going to share a little and then get to work. Spencer, do you want to start us off?"

His daughter's head pokes up from behind her laptop and she says, "Yeah…" she looks at her sister who gives her a slight nod before she stands and continues, "The truck definitely belonged to the killer. We spent the morning tearing it apart and managed to find a good deal of evidence." She grabs a small stack of papers from the corner of the credenza and begins to pass them out as she carries on, "The killer, and I'm hard pressed to name him right now, so…"

"Stick to unsub, kiddo," John gives her.

She takes a breath and nods. "So our unsub doused the interior of the truck and its back with chlorine and then hosed it down. That was a smart in some regards and stupid in others. The trace evidence we could have pulled from the drain was destroyed, but we know that the interior of the cargo hold was bloody. He also missed a lot of spots." She hits the 'on' button of the projector and waits as it whirs to life. An image appears a few seconds later and I see the back of the truck. The interior of the cargo hold has been gutted and parts of the floor have been pulled up to reveal the metal underneath.

"The sealant used to lay the flooring down wasn't nearly strong enough and it wasn't uniform throughout the area. That caused some cracks and allowed blood, water and other body fluids to seep down and settle. The chlorine bath adhered to some it, not all of it. We've got Dr. Ophoven and Benton running the samples against our vics. Just so you know, we've already matched Jennifer Denbow's blood type to a sample taken. Since we're still going through everything, more information will present itself, and we'll keep you updated."

"Good work girls," Ann tells them and then jumps into the next leg of the meeting, "While we're waiting on that, we need to regroup on Davison's whereabouts. Lucy will be holding a press conference at two this afternoon with Davison's DL photo and some hotline numbers to promote call-ins. Dan's offered up a rotation of uni's to take the calls and man the phone lines."

My friend heads to the white board, grabs a marker and starts writing down the eight-hundred numbers that will be released with today's news. "Write these down and make sure you hand them out if you talk to anyone."

I scribble the numbers down on my notebook and she turns back to us. "Some of this will be a waiting game. In the mean time, I want to tear his life apart. I want to know who he has the most contact with, I want to know what his favorite foods are. Hell, I want to know who is childhood best friends were. No stone, ladies and gentleman. He's hiding. Any place he thinks may be safe won't be by the end of today."

"We've already started in on that," Dom says, holding up a folder. "We're breaking down everything. His parents, who weren't as shocked as they should have been when I called, are actually on their way down here. We've got calls out and are expecting to have bank, credit, tax and other sundries of information here shortly. Benny and I were thinking that if we could take a few minutes and look it over, see if there's a pattern…"

"That's good," Ann nods their way. "Smart. We'll let you six keep going with that. Full report by the end of the day?"

Benny salutes. "You got it."

The rest of the detectives and the two agents nod.

Ann's chest rises and falls, letting loose a deep lungful of air. "While you all put that together, Nikki, Nora, I know you have a lot of connections in this city. I want to put them to use."

"What do you have in mind?" I ask and get a pat to my leg.

Cutting a quick look to Nikki, she motions to my hand. It registers when I look down, the pen in my hand is tapping rapidly against my notepad. Stilling my movements, I tuck my hands in my lap and look back up at Ann.

"We'll split up and begin knocking down the doors of the people you know that are connected in New Orleans. Davison is hiding somewhere. I'm hedging my bets and saying that a friend of yours or a friend of a friend will be able to point us in the right direction."

Nikki and I look at each other and nod. "There's a few people we can hit up, sug," Nikki drawls and sends a wink to our friend.


	8. Skeptical Heart

**Ch. 8 – Skeptical Heart**

"He's got an endgame, Ann," John says absently. I take my eyes away from the road and give him a quick once over.

His shoulders are pinned back against the seat, the black button-up looks rumpled and he's staring out the side window. His profile tells me that something's bugging him. Which is funny, 'cause there's a list that I think everyone has right now. We're all equally annoyed.

"What's up?" I ask as I direct my attention back to the road to try and get us over to Nikki and Nora's to meet Darius.

"You think this is coincidence? Darius signing for a package that's addressed to the four of you, Nora's mother doing the same and Lucy and Travis having to go back to Virginia to pick up the one that was sent to Mr. and Mrs. Ness?" his tone's just this side of sarcastic. "It's good damn thing Jill called her parents and Lee to keep an eye out."

I roll my eyes. "No, I don't, but the attitude you're giving me doesn't warrant an appropriate response to being toyed with by this shithead." I signal left and wait at the light to turn onto their street. I chew my lower lip and wait on him to fill in the blanks. "Honestly, John…this isn't the worst of what we've had to deal with…"

"I know, but I still I don't like it. I mean I really don't fucking like this." I raise an eyebrow at him and his arms fold across his chest. "You know what I miss?"

"What?" I ask despite the rhetorical question.

"When I worked in the counter intelligence field, I at least knew what to expect." His hand rises and he ticks off with his fingers, "I knew I was going to get shot at, people couldn't be trusted and that more than likely, people would die."

My brow furrows as I can't help but snicker, "And that's different from what we do now, because?"

His lips purse. "The difference is that it was just me getting shot at." He jabs a finger at his chest. "It was me that was taking the licks." He shakes his head and grunts, "I had less to worry about."

"Don't be an ass," I snip back at him. "It's what we fucking do. You think I didn't know what I signed on for when I went to the academy or applied to the B.A.U.?"

"No," he mutters and runs a hand through his hair.

The light changes and I make my turn and rumble up the street to pull up to the curb.

He doesn't speak again until I kill the engine. "My issue is that even though you knew and I know that, I still don't like a shithead gunning for my team. I never really cared or thought about anyone coming after me. I expect it. It's different when they come after family."

"John…" I try to stop from going down this road.

"Fuck with me, it's good. I make sure I end it, but he's hitting below the belt and I get it's not supposed to be personal, but…" He jabs a finger in my direction, "You go and make me like you and not just see you as an agent and work partner."

I laugh. I can't help it. Smiling, I take his pointer finger in my closed fist and playfully shove it back in his chest. "Glad to know you care."

"Yeah, fuck you too, Flemming. I'm serious. This piece of shit's got me more nervous than I care to admit." He settles his hands in his lap and looks at the apartment building. "How are Nikki and Nora?"

"Eh?" I ask.

"They solid?" he asks again turning back to me. "And close your mouth, you look ridiculous."

I frown and shut my mouth. He usually doesn't take me by surprise. I can usually follow his thought process, but the jump in topics has completely thrown me. "Uh, good…"

"I'm serious, Ann. Are they solid?" he persists and now, I'm literally scratching my head.

"Okay, now I'm really fucking lost. John, what's up?" I repeat my first question to him since we started this asinine conversation.

He licks his lips and shakes his head. "I'm just…" His hands shoot up, palms exposed and he says, "You know what? I'm just going to stay out of it. It's not my relationship and sometimes you read things wrong and…"

A litany of thoughts, one question is formed and then I shoot it down before I even have time to process it. I finally settle on the idea that he's seen something to warrant these questions and this behavior. "What have you seen?" My tone leaves no room for him to dodge the question.

He knows this and his hands drop. "I went to get Nora for the meeting earlier today, the one that kind of cut lunch short and she was in the office with her lieu. Are they close?"

I shrug. "They were partners for a few years before he was promoted. He's been a good friend to Nikki and Nora since they started seeing each other," I answer honestly.

"So he and Nora never…"

"She's a lesbian, John." I smack his shoulder and grumble, "Jesus, what's wrong with you?"

"Why do you think her orientation precludes her from having sex with a man?" he grumbles right back.

"There's a lot wrong with that question and honestly, it doesn't, but the last guy she slept with was the boyfriend she dumped right before she started seeing me!"

"Look, don't get pissy. You asked, I'm trying to answer your question. I went to get her and her and Harney looked way more than friendly."

I can't believe this. "Seriously, John."

He sighs and his features soften. "I'm just going by what I saw, partner. I wouldn't ask the question if I didn't see something that…"

"Show me," I demand and scramble from the car. I run around the front end of Frankie, yank the door open and pull a flustered John from the passenger side. "You think you saw something. I want to know what."

He rolls his eyes but complies. "I just poked my head around the door and they were together," he takes hold of my arms right above my elbows and pulls me against him, "like this, they were talking I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but it looked kinda intense."

Pulling away, I shake my head. "You probably just came in at the wrong time." I stalk up the walk way towards the back door. "Look, Nora would have told me if anything was wrong or she had done some stupid shit like get involved with Dan and cheat on Nikki." I spin right back around to him, jam a finger in his chest and snarl, "Whatever you thought you saw...just…no."

I turn on my heel and hit the door. He's fucking lost his mind.

* * *

"You two ready?" I direct my question towards the telephone unit that has us conferenced in with Lucy and Travis back at Quantico.

"We are," Lucy's voice comes through loud and clear. "We had to break a few laws getting there and back here at a decent time, but…tell Jill we're sorry."

"What did you two do?" Jill asks from behind me. She's been my shadow ever since her parents called us to let us know they had a package, suspiciously like the one Nora and Nikki fetched from Nancy Delaney's house and like the one that John and I picked up from their home. Then there was the one that was at the station when we all got back. That one Jill signed for.

I cut a look to John who's eyeing up the three boxes we have on the conference room table. His feet are planted a shoulder length apart and his arms are folded across his chest. The shirtsleeves are bunched and strained against his arms. He missed his calling as a Hollywood security. He probably would have done better and been safer running a P.I. business in LaLa Land then returning to Washington and catching criminals. Despite his craziness earlier, he refocused as soon as we met Darius and brought the box back to the precinct.

"We may have used a chopper and landed in your parents' back yard. Nice by the way. Your mom says to say 'hi' and that Ann, you, and I quote, 'better take care of my baby,' and Jill, you, and I quote, 'better take care of my baby.' I can see where Jill gets the crazy," Travis fills in. "Mrs. Ness is kind of scary in that 'intense, happy, threatening kind of way."

"The neighbors are going to have a field day with that," Jill groans. She stabs a finger in my ribs and hisses, "If I have to deal with Mrs. Metzbaum's snide little comments about us being too good for them and how 'it's a shame the neighborhood's gone to pot by those drug using, depraved, hoity-toity homosexuals, I will not be held liable for my actions."

I roll my eyes and pull her to me. I press my lips to her temple to try to soothe her and say, "I'm sure it'll be fine. Your mom can blame me and say it was a 'government' thing and not a 'Hollywood' thing or a 'homosexual' thing. I swear that old bat's caused more grief. She was ancient when we were in high school. I guess Satan's minions don't die."

"Baby, don't be stupid. That woman'll stay alive just to spite me," she grumbles and nuzzles into my side.

"All right," Nikki interrupts us. "I know we're all close here and all, I just really want to open up these stupid boxes, so…"

"Fine, fine," Jill waves her off and goes back to standing against the wall.

I look at John and he nods. Nora's next to me as we stand in front of the two boxes. John is opposite us with the third. All are on a similar plastic sheet that I dumped the envelope found at the hotel room on. Spencer and Bamby will be taking the photographs as we open the boxes.

We've already had a member from the bomb squad run a quick analysis to tell us they're clean. The x-ray machines didn't reveal anything except packing material and something flat, non-metal buried an inch and three-quarters from the top. I guess it's now or never.

Nora flips open the razor I gave her and I do the same with mine. John follows our actions across from us and he says, "On my mark." He looks at Nora and then at me. I give him a slight dip of my chin. He nods back. "Go."

With gloved hands we slit the tape down the middle and along the sides. I pull the flaps open and set my razor down before reaching in and feeling around. I don't have to go far. My hands are only half buried in the Styrofoam peanuts before they hit something covered in plastic.

Nora's must have as well because she starts to feel around before her hands reveal themselves clutching a thick freezer bag. John and I lock eyes and we pull out our own items. They're similar that much is clear. I push the box off to the side and lay the item down.

It's somewhat soft. It has a little give and it's thick. There's something on the reverse side so I flip it over and see it's a stack of polaroids. The top picture shows me the frightened features of Margret Talbert. A chill courses up my spine. Goosebumps explode along my arms.

I drop the bag. Cover my mouth with the back of my hand and try to keep it together.

"Lucy," I choke out.

"Oh, just…that's fucking gross!" Lucy bellows through the intercom.

I feel Jill behind me and before I know it, she takes off. The conference room doors banging open.

Nikki's the first one to react and puts a hand on my shoulder before tearing off after my wife.

Fuck.

"Flemming!" John barks. I meet his steady gaze and find some footing. Closing my eyes, I count to ten.

When I open them, I nod and release the lungful of air that I was holding. I'm good.

Mostly.

"Nora," John checks on my friend.

"Didn't want lunch anyhow," she gripes and turns the bag over in her hands.

"Agreed," Travis snaps through the intercom.

Acid burns up through my esophagus. I swallow and wince.

"Let's open these up," John directs and I step back to my spot next to the table.

I pick up the dropped bag and pull the seal apart. The smell is familiar. That's the first thing I notice. It smells like diluted formaldehyde. I reach in, grab the pictures, the other item in the bag and pull them out. Setting the bag to the side, next to the box. I take the pictures and place them above the other contents of the bag.

I quickly fan through the pictures. They tell me what I already know. They're a chronological telling of Talbert's last days alive. They start with just close ups of her frightened, terror filled features. Then progress. Strips of skin freshly removed. Some healing. Some while the skin is being removed and her mouth is forever caught in a scream of pain and terror.

I drop the stack of pictures to the side and look at the other item.

The stitching is impeccable. The only thing that gives it away is the coloring of the material used to hold the strips together. It's thick and black and nauseating. Against the white plastic evidence sheet, Talbert's face, devoid of form and emotion sets.

* * *

I reach out and take the snifter full of amber colored liquid and settle down on the wooden lounger next to Nora. Their balcony that sits off the sitting room by their bedroom is a nice place for a lot of things. At one in the morning, it's a nice little escape to provide the sleeping occupants some respite from those of us that can't seem to close ours.

Nora's head is resting against the padded back of the chair. The glass in her hand is swirled causing the few ice cubes inside to rattle around. "Jill okay?" she asks quietly, mindful of her sleeping partner not too far away.

"Yeah, I made her take two xani's to get her to calm down," I whisper back. I look over and see a blanket, much like the one Nora has draped across her legs sitting off to my right. I reach out and settle it over my legs to mirror my friend.

The table in front of us has some paperwork, folded in thirds. In the low lighting I can't really make anything out on the note pad Nora has with her so I just set my drink on top next to the paperwork and settle back down, willing some type of peace to come my way.

John's words from earlier roll around, rattling the calm that may be able to take hold. Instead, despite having faces mailed to us, despite dealing with this bitch of case, the only thing I can really concentrate on is the conversation with John about Nora and Dan.

I know Nora. I know her like I do Jill. Like Lee and like I know myself. It's not in her D.N.A…

But then there was Tommy and the way we got together, it all sort of…

Meeting Nora hit me like a ton of bricks. I don't think she ever really got that. I know I blindsided her. She was the only person that I felt a connection too. She lit me up and I'm thankful that she spent the time with me that she did.

The rapidity of our relationship and how she handled Tommy was probably the only sore spot. I couldn't control it and neither could she. Of course, it's not like I didn't encourage her actions. He was a dick. And I'd have been all for her not fucking up a good thing with her boyfriend, but the one time we met…

I really just wanted to beat his face in…I can say with sixty-percent certainty that it was born not out of jealousy, but out of the clear understanding that he wasn't good enough to lick the bottom of Nora's shoes, let alone share her bed.

I reach out, grab my drink and take a healthy sip. The bourbon trickles down my throat, burning a warm comfort through the pit of my stomach. "Nor," I whisper quietly and try to scoot my chair closer to her. Her eyes pop open and she tilts her head my way. Her right hand reaches out and helps pull my chair closer to her.

"Thanks," I say and rest my head on her shoulder.

"No problem."

"Becca should be able to get us a little more leeway for tomorrow," I inform her knowing that Becca will do her best to get us some help with the victims' families.

"John's wife?" she asks and pushes her hand under my blanket to rest her hand on the inside of my high. If it were anyone else, I'd break their fingers. Nora's always gotten a free pass.

The action just pulls us a little closer, warming both of us against the chill of the night.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I told you about John's little rough patch with her?" She shakes her head so I give her the rundown, "Becca was working too much, John was working too much. They went through a separation; actually they were working on reconciling when we were at the premiere. Long story short, she quit her job at the hospital and is working at the State Department now as an advisor."

"Huh, didn't know that. John always seemed really solid," Nora murmurs.

"They are, were, just hit a rough spot and didn't know what to do about it. John's been a little different since. Way more protective of his personal relationships and has taken an interest in the personal relationships of the people he deems worthy." I snicker. That's an understatement, but whatever. "He doesn't like people fucking up good things. Gotten really good at calling me on my shit when I'm being an ass. He does the same to Jill too…"

"Turn about's fair play?" she jibes.

"Yeah, I guess." I pull her hand free off my thigh and lace our fingers together. I bring the hand up and press a kiss to her knuckles. "So," I mumble against her skin, "I have to ask, is there something going on with you and Dan?" Predictably, she yanks her hand away and I soldier on, "Nora, I don't want to betray any confidences, but you…if there is something, that's pretty shitty of you to do to Nikki, why wouldn't you tell me and it's fucking stupid." I sit up and set my glass down. My legs swing left and I sit on the edge of the chair. "John saw you and Dan in his office and asked me. I just…"

Nora shakes her head and it's then that I realize that if I were anyone else I'd probably be nursing a black eye or be soaked in the alcohol Nora still has in her hand.

She controls the shake of her hand though and manages to slide her drink on the table. She reaches out for the stack of papers, stands and tosses them at me. They hit my knee and land with a soft 'whump' by my feet. Saying absolutely nothing, she strides back inside. The door to the balcony rattling behind her.

I hang my head in my hands and look down at the papers. The top is all I really need to see. It reads, "Notice of Intent to Promote."

Reaching down, I pick them up and scan the top page. It's a letter to Nora telling her that her commanding officer put in a requisition to have her promoted. She has until October first to decide on what she wants to do…


	9. Dark is Whole

**Ch. 9 – Dark Is Whole**

Jill's already waiting in Bruce's passenger seat by the time I get to the car and hop into the driver's seat. Cranking the SUV over, the pads of my fingers drum across the steering wheel. I kind of want to get to my daddy's a little on the quicker side, but…

One look at my friend's bouncing left leg and the manducated fingernails of her left hand and…

Perhaps discretion would serve her nerves better than my giving into my impatient nature.

I put Bruce into drive, pull away from the curb and steer us through a knot of traffic before I reach out to grab her left hand. I do like I would with Nora and lace our fingers together, offering the digits a gentle squeeze for reassurance and communicating that she's not alone. One thing I've noticed about Jill during this whole thing is that she internalizes…a lot like Nora does. They'd live in their heads if they could.

I hear her release a breath, it's long and sounds somewhat cathartic for her. "You want to put on some music?" I ask knowing that she usually has something playing and it helps her. She's said on a few occasions that she'd rather read and listen to music than watch television.

I can appreciate that and truthfully, we need all the soothing we can get.

"I, uhm, actually…" she chews on her the corner of her lower lip and looks around. She lifts the latch on the middle console and grunts, "Ah-ha. Cool. This…" She pulls out the auxiliary cord to the sound system. We've never actually used it, but when I picked out Bruce, the dealer made sure to put one of those in there. He said it'd help when there was nothing on the radio.

She fiddles with the sound system and then takes her phone out and plugs the audio jack into the headset port on her phone. She obviously knows what she's doing and seems to know more about my car's audio system than I do so I let her go.

From the corner of my eye, I watch her scroll through her iPhone's library. Goodness knows what all she has on there. Her music collection rivals Darius' and Chris' put together. She tuts and then I hear a click before a fiddle and driving drum beat fill Bruce's cabin.

She sets her phone down in the middle console and leans back against the seat. I take my eyes from the road to watch her tip her head back and close her eyes. As the music carries forward in to this…I'm not sure what to call it. There are fiddles and a guitar, bass, drums and horns. I don't think I've ever heard anything quite like it, but it helps her.

Her shoulders droop just a little. Her left leg stops fidgeting and instead moves to the beat of the bass drum.

I'll take whatever we can get right now.

"I know," she finally speaks in a full sentence instead of the broken grunts and stammers of insecurity that's been common all day, "it's a little weird, but these guys, Larry and His Flask, are fucking awesome live. Think, like bluegrass punk rock."

"Hmm, it is different, darling. I'll give you that," I keep my teasing light. Her response is to reach out and take my right hand again.

"Thank you," she mumbles, her eyes still closed.

"I haven't done anything," I say gently. I know Ann's been keeping a close eye on her, Nora has too, but for some reason, I've been the one to go after her or keep her company.

"Bullshit. You've been stuck up my ass more than my wife. Thank you," she says again. "I love her, but I need her to focus on the case. She's having a really hard time with that right now. The only reason I've been somewhat copacetic is because you've been around to pick up the pieces without her seeing."

"Jill…" I try to deflect. That's not entirely fair to her wife or to Nora and me. We've all been worried. Jill's a force. She would have to be to have the career that she has and she's been insecure, fidgeting and anxious since finding out about being part of this in more ways than being married to one of the investigators.

"No, please, Nik. Just take the thanks and leave it at that," she pleads. "And thank you for letting me tag along. Jen and I knocked out the set up on the benefit pretty quick and I've been going crazy today with nothing to do."

"What about your books and music?" I ask.

"I can't focus on a damn thing. I gave up on reading after the third read through of the same paragraph," she admits as I see my dad's house come up on our right. I pull up in front and kill the engine.

"Come on then, you can help me collect whatever his assistant beckoned me for," I say exiting the car. I meet up with her on the side walk and here her whistle.

"Impressive," she sing songs and wiggles her eyebrows. "I didn't know you grew up in such swanky digs."

I roll my eyes at her. We're on the edge of Uptown, but still in the Garden District. It's the same house we've had in my family for as long as I can remember. "My grandmother grew up here. It's been in the family for forever…"

She snickers. "Yes, but you've seen my childhood home. I think my house could fit on half of your front lawn."

"Jillybean," I purposefully use her childhood nickname, "you behave."

She sighs but says, "Yes, dear."

I push open the front door and motion Jill through. "I'd give you a tour, but I think we're on a time crunch." I watch her shrug and look around as I call out, "Lorene!"

My father's assistant comes bustling through the archway that leads to his study, "Ms. Beaumont, thank heavens." Her eyes are a little wild which causes me to step back.

"Lorene, this is a dear friend of mine, Mrs. Jill Flemming," I introduce the two.

"Mrs. Flemming, while it is a pleasure to meet you, you'll have to excuse Ms…"

"Detective," I assert. I usually don't care, but with Lorene…for some reason the way she insists on calling me by my last name grates. I'd rather be a detective to her than a miss.

"I'm sorry; you'll have to excuse Det. Beaumont and myself for just a moment." Lorene doesn't say anything else before she takes hold of my jacket sleeve and tugs me into the study.

I look over my shoulder and Jill follows us. I shoot her a wink and she grins.

As Lorene lets my sleeve go and rounds the desk, she looks up and stutters, "Mrs. Flemming if you'd like I can have Carl show you to the sitting room…"

"She stays, Lorene," I snap. "Mrs. Flemming is riding with me all day. Anything that you can say to me, she will be afforded the same courtesy."

"I…" Lorene tries to argue.

"This isn't something I'm going to debate, Lorene. Jill stays." I fold my arms across my chest and wait for her to get over herself.

She flaps her jaws a few times but finally gives up. "I was going through Mr. Beaumont's mail and happened upon this." Her long, red lacquered nail flicks the edge of a large manila envelope.

I stiffen at the familiar script. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. With my head bowed, I ask, "Has anyone else touched or seen this?"

"No…I…once I saw the contents, I called you immediately," Lorene answers. "Do you have any idea what your father would say or do if he saw what I did?"

No.

Not really.

I don't even know what's inside. I just know that it can't be good.

I search my pockets and realize that I didn't bring any gloves with me.

None of the other envelopes held any useful forensic evidence thus far.

Making an executive decision, I reach out and pick the blasted thing up.

The top edge has been slit by the silver letter opener on edge of the desk. I take a deep breath and reach in to pinch the edge of thick, photo paper between my index and thumb. Jill steps up behind me as I remove the photos I know are inside.

I toss the envelope down on to the desk and stop at a decent head shot of myself. My head tips to the side. When was this taken?

The collar of the coat that's visible is one that was ruined nearly two years ago. It was a wonderful brown leather jacket Nora had picked up for me. I ran down Sam Eden in a thunderstorm wearing that coat. It was never the same and I had to get rid of it.

I squeeze the top edge of the photo and shuffle it to bottom of the stack. The next photo is the same head shot, but altered. A strip of skin on the right side of my face has been digitally removed.

It's obviously a doctored photo but…

Jill's hand grips my hip as I shuffle through the rest of the photos. They progress in severity. Each photo reveals less of my actual face and more of the muscle and tissue that would lie underneath.

Acid burns the back of my throat.

I set the photos down and try…

The nausea is sudden and overwhelming.

Breaking away from Jill, I barely manage to make it to the wastepaper basket next to the desk.

* * *

Embarrassing as it is to admit, it took a good ten minutes to get me to calm down enough. Jill, thankfully, was amazing. When I did my own brand of capitulation, she merely waved me off, something about that was nothing. She'd seen some amazing meltdowns at runway shows.

Which I believe.

Lorene wasn't much help either, but I'm glad she decided to get me involved before giving those to my father. He doesn't need to know those exist.

I made sure Lorene understood that she wasn't to speak of it. The woman is a pain sometimes, but I will say her loyalties are in the right order. I owe her for that at the very least.

After I had managed to pull myself together, we decided to go back to the station, but we're stuck in traffic. I rest my head on my left fist. Jill decided to put something a little softer on, Missy Higgins. She said it's her 'anti-kill' music. "Explain that again to me?" I ask finally getting some semblance of normalcy back to my system.

She stops singing along and looks at me. "'Splain what?" she asks in a horrible Australian accent.

I snort, I can't help it. The giggle soon follows. "You're 'anti-kill' music?"

"Oh, Missy Higgins…she's fucking brilliant. Like do you know who Tori Amos is?" she asks and I shake my head. Her face sours. "And you call yourself a lesbian? Where were you when Little Earthquakes hit, the moon?"

I shrug.

She rolls her eyes and fills me in, "Tori Amos started playing piano when she was two. Went to the Peabody Conservatory when she was five and she started writing her own stuff. Got kicked out when she was eleven for well, being herself. From there she just did her own thing, but so you have a frame of reference, Tori Amos equals 'oh-my-god-she's-fucking-brilliant' and that when I say what I'm about to say next you can appreciate the enormity of it all." She pokes her finger at my shoulder and grins.

"You are crazy, sug. You do know that right?" I remind her. The line of cars in front of me begins to thin and I pick my head up off my fist and begin to actually move Bruce through traffic.

She doesn't continue right away and instead waits until we hang a right so we can go back to the station. "Okay, so right, Tori Amos is genius and I love her music, she's a little different, like artsy different, y'know?" I nod. I've known a few of those in my day.

"Well, Missy Higgins isn't like a child prodigy or anything, but she's amazing and her music sort of hits me right here," she taps her chest. "She won a contest her sister entered her in when she was in school. That's how she got discovered, but she's awesome. Her music does what Tori's can't sometimes. It sort of calms me down and gives me a chance to gain perspective on things. Also, some of her arrangements…" I look over to her and glance up out of the passenger window then up at the light. It's green. I whip my head back to look at Jill. My mouth falls open to warn her. She says, "…are killer. She sometimes does it better than Tor…"

The Econo-line Van barrels through their red light. I can't even warn her as it slams into her side. She pitches towards me. Body flailing like a rag doll and is yanked back. Her head makes a sickening crunch to the passenger side window. The glass splinters and crumbles. The side airbags deploy and she slumps over.

The forward momentum of the van pitches Bruce to the right. Tires screech and whine in protest. Metal grinds and whines. Bruce loses transaction, leaving us to the mercy of the van. I grip the steering wheel and slam my foot on the accelerator. Moving counter intuitively, my hope lies in the tires of my car catching a bit of pavement to move us forward.

The engine grinds and sputters.

We careen through the intersection instead. The van dictating our direction.

Shit.

"Jill!" I manage to get out. I don't do anything else as I see something coming at us from the left.

The van's engine revs.

In a split second of realization I know what's happening. I can do nothing but brace myself. I let off the accelerator and watch us. Jill's phone is thrown left, sailing past my nose to bounce against the glass of my side window. Tires squeal and the sound of more wrenching metal fill the interior of the cabin as we hit a telephone poll. I feel a sharp snap along my left thigh right before I'm slammed against the door.

* * *

In my thirty-eight years, I've experience all types of 'coming to'. There's the slow and gentle kind. The immediate kind and startled kind. The hazy and lazy kind. Most of them aren't horrible.

Except this one.

One moment I'm dreaming about the accident and the next, my brain snaps alive and the memories rush forward. My breath hitches and the intake of air burns through my right side.

The searing pain keeps my eyes closed. The realization that I'm not in a hospital bed ensures that I won't be opening them up anytime soon.

The ground is cool and damp underneath me.

My body aches from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I think, at this point, even my hair hurts.

I listen instead of look around. If someone is around, I'd rather them think I'm still unconscious than lucid. The problem with listening is that I don't hear anything but the steady, raspy intake of air coming from somewhere north of my head.

The smell of the place is musty, like a basement, but less mildewy and dirtier.

Weight along both of my wrists and a gentle tug confirms that I'm in cuffs or something similar.

Just fuck.

I draw in a measured breath. I need to trample down the rising panic. My heartbeat sounds too loud. My breaths are too quick and labored. It hurts too much.

I can do this, I remind myself.

I've been through a lot worse.

I've faced down a lot worse.

I bite down, grinding my teeth.

There's no movement around me. I'm sure of that. Just the breathing. I have to hope that's Jill.

I pray that that's Jill. I'm willing to offer pretty much anything the Lord wants right now if I crack an eye open and see Jill breathing near me.

Deciding that's a good a wager as God's going to get I blink my eyes open. It hurts to look straight ahead, at the ceiling, but I do anyhow. There's a flicker of light off to my left. It doesn't give me much to work with.

Beggars can't be choosers here so…

Instead, I look around, right to left. It's dark, black and I can't make out what kind of room I'm in. I arch my neck back and catch sight of another body laying horizontal to me. I can't make out the face before a pulling in my left sends a wave of sickness up the back of my throat.

I twist, sputter and cough in to the floor. Dust and dirt swirl from my movement. The pain in my leg begins anew. I can't clamp the cry of pain that bursts through. Tears sting the corner of my eyes and leak out.

Inhaling brings with it granules of dirt to coat the inside of my mouth.

I spit and heave again. I feel the burn rushing up the back of my throat and I wretch again. My head pounds. I squeeze my eyes shut and whimper. I can smell the bile next to my head and it causes more to try and work itself up. I swallow it back.

Moving sets off a chain reaction. I need to be still. I need to be still or I'm going to pass out.

I don't think that's a smart move right now.

Instead, I rest my forehead against the cool dirt of the floor. Take in small gulps of air and try to steady myself.

I need to think.

Let's use what the good Lord put between our ears and think.

First thing's first, I need to assess the damage. What's broken, what's not? What am I working with?

For this, I need to move and act like an adult.

God, this is going to suck.

Slow and gentle, I roll on to my back again. The movement was minimal, but I swear someone was taking the business end of a hammer to my left leg. I bite down on my lip willing the throbbing to go away. Slowly, it ebbs to a dull, consistent ache.

I pull in another deep breath and open my eyes. I pull my arms and chains clink and rattle. I have a little bit of leeway so I look right then left. My right arm is shackled to a hook in the wall. Another one is in the floor; an eyehook protrudes from a small slab of concrete. Well, I guess that answers my question.

If I'm able, I can move around a little.

Pulling up a mental image of Nora, one where she's determined and hell bent on getting her way, I plant my hand on either side of me and push up. Everything flares. White hot bolts of agony thunder in various spots across my body.

Another wave of nausea pitches in my stomach. I bite back the bile that churns upward. I've never felt something like this. I swear I think I'd rather have my leg cut off than deal with this. The tears roll down my cheeks. I really don't care.

The ache subsides enough that I'm able to open my eyes and assess the damage. I don't need to prod my abdomen or sides to know that I've got at least one or two cracked maybe even broken ribs. I reach up and feel along my head. There's some dried blood, but nothing's actively bleeding.

All of that is good. I can live with that.

I look at my leg.

Someone has split my jeans all the way up to my hip. My left leg is sandwiched between two thin pieces of plywood and taped. My upper thigh is caked in blood. There's a bandage peeking through the splint and the tape, which I think was once white, runs across the width of my thigh. It's when I look at my shin that I start to panic.

The reddish-brown tip of my tibia is visible through a tear in my skin.

I lean over and wretch. The bile burns my throat and mouth. My stomach clenches, spasms and rolls all at once. Tears flow freely and clear mucus runs from my nose. I try to draw a breath, but another spasm shakes me and I heave again.

It's clear, a little foamy and separates out from the yellow intestinal fluid.

I swallow, but another round of spasms contract my stomach and I cough up more spittle. There's nothing left to come up. I suck in some air through my now stuffy nose and focus on getting my stomach to relax.

It takes some very deep, very painful breaths, but it happens. Slowly.

I guess that explains the pain in my leg.

I use the back of my left hand to wipe my mouth, grimacing as it comes away wet and dirty.

I right myself once again and debate my next move.

I'm not even sure I can move.

But I need to get to Jill now.

Now that I know there's no way I'm walking out of here.

If we walk out of here.

I shake my head at the thought.

We will.

Both of us.

I just need to check on Jill.

I look around and see the small oil lamp closer to the door and far out of my reach.

Okay, so the best way to do this is…

Any way I figure, this is going to hurt like a bitch. I need to suck it up.

I plant my hands behind me and as gently as possible, raise my right leg. Leveraging myself, I use my right leg to push myself backwards and guide myself with my hands.

The pain flares, like I was expecting. It's manageable this time.

I measure the throbbing with my breathing and control my stomach.

The movement was just enough for me to be able to reach back and touch Jill. I grab the arm of her shirt and tug her towards me. She doesn't stir.

"Jill," I rasp. My throat is raw and raspy. "Jill?"

I manage to pull her forward enough so that her head is by my hips and I look down.

The right side of her face is purple and green. Right above and a little back from her temple is matted and caked with blood. I smooth away some of the hair and see the laceration.


	10. Stuck It In

**Ch. 10 – Stuck It In**

I lace my fingers together and rest my hands on top of my head. Crime scene techs whiz about and the only thing I can hear, above the chatter, the tow trucks grinding gears, traffic and radio chatter is the thudding in my chest.

It hammers away. Threatens to bust free and runaway.

I pace along the sidewalk just off to the side of where the mangled remains of Bruce are being processed. Bamby's barking orders. Ann…I'm not sure where she's at….

I can't…

I close my eyes and crouch down.

I need to keep it together.

My breath hitches, shortens.

Things get fuzzier. Voices more distant.

I need to focus.

Where are they?

Did they go to a hospital?

Did someone drive them?

Nikki's and Jill's phones go straight to voicemail.

What happened? She wouldn't have just left the car like that.

I need to calm down.

My nostrils flair as I take in a steadying breath. I focus on the breathing. Benny always says it's the best way to bring your mind to the present and sharpen the awareness. I can do this.

One, in.

One, out.

Two, in.

Two, out.

Three, in.

Three, out.

Four, in.

Four, out.

Five, in.

Five, out.

One, in…

I repeat the pattern a few times. With each repetition my heartbeat ebbs, slowing marginally. Allowing me to at least trample down the panic.

I can do this. This isn't the first crisis I've been in. I'm trained for this shit.

What do I need to do?

I quiet the million things that come to me in that instance and focus on the one…what the hell happened?

The only way I'm going to be able to figure that out is to find my spine and go look at Bruce.

I can do that.

I think.

I rise from my crouched position, my knees cracking as I straighten them out. Opening my eyes, the scene is still the same. A few police cruisers, an S.C.U. van, Frankie and an unmarked…

Then Bruce, mangled, savaged, torn.

The Cayenne is jammed against a near splintered telephone pole. The thick wood is split where the roof of Bruce is jammed against it.

The passenger side is smashed in. Clearly, that's where the point of impact occurred. The back passenger door is lying on the ground. The front is bent near in half.

It was a high speed collision that should have sent them in a tailspin, but the tire marks…

I shake my head as I look at the thick black markings…

I swear it looks like they were pushed.

I breathe in and out again, using that to keep me together.

I approach my car, Nikki's, our car with stuttering steps.

"Nora," Ann's voice comes up behind me. I feel her hand on my arm. "Don't…"

"Don't what?" I snap at her and spin around. "Don't go look?"

She shakes her head. "I don't…" Her features give nothing away. "Are you okay?"

I mirror her expression and shrug. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Bamby's processing, we really shouldn't…" she trails off and looks behind me.

"Ann, I swear if you let those words come out of your mouth…"

She holds her hand up, stopping my words. "I wasn't – I don't…I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now."

Her honesty rocks me back on my heels.

"I just want to see…have you?" I swallow and push down the burning at the back of my throat.

She shakes her head.

"Come on. We need to keep it together, Flemming." I hope the use of her last name keeps her with me. I'm still pissed about last night, but…

She nods and I go back to staring at the car.

We approach together, sidestepping a few markers from the processing team.

I don't get right up to it to see…the interior is in bad shape, not as bad as the body…

My stomach pitches…there's blood smeared in the interior. Along the driver's side door. The once cream colored panel is rusty brown. There's a bloody hand print smeared along the dash. A small puddle is congealing on the middle console.

"Flemming, Delaney, over here!" John barks behind us.

My feet feel heavy as we turn around and trudge his way. Each step feeling like it's taking me further from where I need to go. Wherever that is.

Spencer and Bamby are hunched over the back of Frankie. John steps between them and us. His fingers snap in front of both our faces and he barks again, "Keep it together, both of you." His tone is solid.

It grounds me unexpectedly.

I can do this.

I straighten up and put my hands on my hips.

Ann rises a little next to me and we both nod. "We're good," I say and meet his eyes to convey that fact.

He searches my face and then Ann's before nodding. "Okay." He crooks a finger and motions us towards his daughters. "Bamby found this in the glove compartment. It's addressed to both of you."

Spencer looks at us before picking up an evidence bag with a piece of paper inside. Ann's grasp tremors for a fraction of a second before she takes hold and pulls it towards us.

Ann holds it out so that both of us can read:

_Dear Special Agent Flemming and Detective Delaney, _

_ I'm unsure of how this letter will find you. I'll assume not well given the circumstances of your car, detective. Never the less, I'll take the time to state the obvious, your partners are with me, relatively unharmed save for the wounds sustained in the crash. _

_ Dennis was fun to toy with for awhile, but things have devolved far past my liking. Due to certain developments, I've had to…punt…I think is the correct verbiage. In order to facilitate a proper end to my plans, I've come up with a solution that should be agreeable to both of yours sensibilities and mine. _

_ I'm willing, at this point to offer a trade. You both surrender yourselves to me and I will release the two women currently under my…care. At twenty-one-hundred hours, you two will wait for me at 3001 Tchoupitoulas Street. It will be under surveillance. You will come alone. You will come unarmed. You will drive your car, detective, I think you call it, Frankie, and you will wait. After I have secured the both of you, Director Malone will be given the coordinance to your partners' location. Any deviation from that which I've outlined above will result in immeasurable suffering for Detective Beaumont and Mrs. Flemming. _

_ Soon._

* * *

"Are you suicidal?" John bellows as he watches the silent exchange between Ann and me.

It's not really even a choice.

It's a trade I'd make repeatedly.

Ann feels the exact same way. It's pointless to double check when the answer will never change.

Ann hands him back the evidence bag with the letter and shrugs at him. Her lips stay closed, pressed together. No doubt thinking logistics like I am.

"I'm serious you two. You can't…" John tries to assert.

Ann steps up and jams a finger in his chest. She hisses, "Don't you even fucking go there with me, John. Don't you fucking dare. You wouldn't hesitate if it were Becca or your kids. So shut your mouth partner before you say something dumb and I lay you out."

His mouth snaps shut. His jaw bunches. A vein along his neck pops and throbs.

"We're doing this," Ann states with a finality that leaves him without words.

"You may," Dan's voice breaks through the little bubble the three of us were in. My head snaps in the direction of his voice. "Nora's being pulled from the case."

"Like hell!" I snap at him, not even thinking about what's coming out of my mouth. I didn't even know he was here.

Dan's arms fold across his chest and he tries to stare me down.

He's fucking crazy.

"If you think for one second, I'm letting you go through with this you've lost your mind, Delaney." His posture, his voice tells me that he's made up his mind.

I don't really give a shit.

"This isn't open for discussion," he says with a finality that's laughable.

My snicker misses the filter that I can usually keep in place. "There's no way I'm not doing this," I say with just the same authority as he's said no. "This isn't open for discussion." I turn to Ann and nod her way. "We need to come up with a plan."

"He said he'd get in touch with John." Ann shrugs. "Right now, we've no choice but to think he'll keep his word."

I nod. She's right.

"What if he doesn't?" John questions.

Ann and I glance at each other, then she at her watch and she shrugs again, resigned. "It's up to you to find them. You've got a little over five hours to figure out where he's holding my wife and Nikki and get them to safety."

John's hands perch on his hips, looking between the two of us. The only acknowledgement of his acceptance is a slight tip of his chin.

"What the hell didn't you understand, Delaney!" Dan muscles around John and steps in front of me. "There's no way you're doing this."

Folding my arms across my chest, I challenge, "Do you think you're going to stop me?"

"You're damn well right I will." He mirrors my position.

He may have some height and weight on me, but I'm faster.

"Good fucking luck, Dan. I'm going to make the trade." My voice is flat, but forceful. He needs to see this isn't s rash decision. It's not even a decision.

"Nora you can't trust him!"

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. It buys Nikki and Jill time."

He throws his hands up in the air and tries to be the voice of reason, "You don't even know if they're alive still!"

One, two, three…I silently count. He's right. I don't know for certain, but…I think I'd feel it. She's alive. I know she is.

I shake my head. "I don't know she's not either."

"You do this," he tries to play a trump card, "you do this, detective and you lose your job. Am I making myself clear?"

Really?

After everything...

My eyes flutter shut and I shake my head. My right hand ghosts over my badge. My index finger runs along the embossed seal and badge number. It's really not a choice.

I reach down and unclip the gold badge that's been on my hip for most of my career. I turn it over in my hand and open my eyes. I meet his gaze and hold my badge out towards him. "Consider this my resignation, then, Lieutenant Harney." His hands stay where they're at so I make it easy for him. I tuck the badge into the breast pocket of his blue button up. "I resign effective immediately."

"Nora," he pleads.

"Look, Dan," I say and poke at his chest. "You don't seem to understand that this isn't a choice for me. It's Nikki over it all. Over the department. Over my job. Over you." I remove my finger and run my hand through my hair. "She's worth it all a thousand times over. She's my partner at work and in life." I shake my head and pull at my hair at the same time. "You've lost this round, Harney. Go home. This doesn't involve the N.O.P.D."

Dan's mouth drops open as he starts to protest, John interrupts him, "She's right, Dan. This is a Federal investigation. The N.O.P.D. can see themselves out of it. If we're no longer welcome at the precinct, I'll go with you to collect the things we have there."

I can't resist one last dig, "So with all due respect, sir, fuck off."

Dan's mouth claps shut. He spins on his heel and stalks off, barking at a few uniforms standing around.

"John, that job offer still stand?" I ask, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

Fuck Dan and fuck the department.

He nods. "The badges I left with you. Those were legit."

I thought as much.

I sigh and head over to the passenger side of my car. I stick my upper half through the open window and pop the glove compartment. Buried underneath napkins, condiments, a black box and the registration and insurance card are two thin leather wallets. I pick them both up and right myself. I open one and see Nikki's department I.D. photo staring back at me. She's a bit younger in this one than in the one that she currently has, but it's still my Nikki. I smile and pocket it. The other one is me. I flip it open to reveal the thin gold badge and fit the holder between my hip and pants.

The badge takes the spot of the one I just relinquished.

"Ann, what's the game plan?" I ask my friend and current partner.

She grins. "Well, Agent Delaney, we need to get it together and regroup." She winks at me and I feel my world right itself just a little.

This is going to work out.

We're going to be fine and we'll get Nikki and Jill back.

* * *

The neighborhood that's our designated drop point is quiet. It's mainly businesses, car places or tire shops. All of them are closed at eight-thirty at night. There's the occasional car that drives past, but other than that, it's the crickets and the gentle rumble of Frankie's engine that keeps us company. After we left the scene of the wreck, we went back to the station and collected the case files.

Surprisingly enough, I didn't get approached by anyone. Either the uni's were too scared to talk or they just didn't know what to make of the scene that Dan and I caused.

From there, we regrouped at home. We worked through a series of contingencies that we could live with. A back up plan and then John left to get started on trying to find out where Nikki and Jill are being held.

Bamby and Spencer left shortly after that to help their father prepare for Plan B.

That left Ann and I to get ready for tonight.

We showered, dressed and sat at the kitchen table to get everything else together. Ann and I have been sitting for nearly an hour. If he's watching, he'll know that we haven't moved. We've sat and waited.

There's not much else to do.

But with nine approaching and Ann and I in this weird…

I'm still pissed at her.

For her to think that I could…with Dan…

"You're an ass," I hiss into the quiet interior of my car.

Ann's head whips my way and I jam a finger at her. "You know, I thought I'd just be able to go and do this with you, but…" I drum my fingers along the steering wheel. "I'm fucking still pissed at you even when we're getting ready to…"

"N…"

"Shut up, Ann," I snap at her. "You're unbelievable. I mean I get it. John's your partner. You have to trust him…" I shake my head. If she were… "If you were anyone else, you know?" I turn on the bench seat, prop my arm on the seat and use my hand to cradle my head. "Dan took me out about two months ago and handed me the paperwork that I tossed at you last night. I didn't know he did it."

I lick my lips and look around. "I didn't really…it was an opportunity that I didn't think was open for me. With Nikki and me out at work, things haven't been bad. Easier in some regards, but…" I turn back to Ann and see her studying me. "You know cops. The rumors, the speculation and chatter. There's a few, more than I probably know, that think our asses were saved because of who Nikki's father is. Because she has money."

"Nora," I let her get my name out, but stop her with an upturned hand.

"Do you know what really saved our jobs?" I ask her knowing that she doesn't. She shakes her head. "Nikki's aunt had a standing roll in the hay with one of our superiors. She threatened to call him on the carpet." I snort, it's derisive and harsh. "That girl, Ann…you have no idea the risks she's taken for me."

"I'm sorry," she says earnestly.

I shrug. I know she is. "She barely talks to her aunt, uncle and cousins. The only family she really has is her dad and Darius. Darius' meemaw, she's taken both of us in, but…" The next words catch in my throat and I cough. "The promotion it meant a lot. A chance to…I just want to take care of her, Ann. Give her what she deserves. The new title would mean a bump in pay and more opportunity…she deserves that and so much…"

"She loves you, Nora, what makes you think that she wants more than what you've already given her?" Ann asks, but she doesn't get it.

"It's not about what she wants, it's what I want to give her," I answer her. "I want to be able to provide for her and I know…Casey says that I need to get my head out of my ass and get rid of some of those traditional ideas about…"

I look up at the ceiling. This is actually damn near impossible to get out. It'd be easier… I reach over and pop open the glove compartment. Probably not the best place to keep this, but…oh well. I grab the little black box and pull it out of the glove compartment. I put it in Ann's lap and explain, "Don't be mad, but Jill helped. She uh, she helped with the design."

I watch her open the box and point to the Lucinda cut engagement ring Jill and I decided on. The setting has two accent stones in a platinum band. "Remember, right before her birthday, she said she had to go to New York for a few days?"

"Yeah, she met with her agent…"

"And she also picked this up for me," I admit.

Ann let's lose a shuddery breath, "Wow. I'm kicking my wife's ass for not telling me."

The bark of laughter is sudden and loud. Ann's joke breaks away the anger I was holding on to.

"Yeah," I say and wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. "She did good though."

"So…" Ann lets it trail off and closes the Tiffany and Company box. She places it back in my hand and grins. "Marriage, eh, Delaney?"

I duck my head and nod. "I…" I look up and meet my first girlfriend's twinkling blue eyes. "I think it's time I make an honest woman out of her." My lips quirk into a lopsided smile.

Ann's arms shoot out and pulls me into her side. She kisses my cheek, my temple and the corner of my mouth. "You're going to have your hands full," she jibes.

I snicker. "I know."

"If we weren't getting ready to give ourselves over to a sociopath, babe, I'd so take you out to celebrate," she says and tweaks my nose.

I roll my eyes. "Well, I need to get the girl to safety before I propose. Oh, yeah, and find a new job."

"You have one. We can work logistics later. Y'know after we get out of this mess," Ann grins at me. It's the same grin she flashed sixteen years ago that caused me to go get that cup of coffee with her. That smile she's sending me changed my life.

"It's almost nine," I note and look at the digital display of the stereo.

We both look around and see nothing but empty streets. I toss the box back in the glove compartment and close it.

"All's quiet on the western front," Ann mumbles. "All I want is one clean hit, Nora."

"You and me both, hon. You and me both," I agree.

I drum my fingers along the dashboard and perk up. We have a decent view of the area.

We look towards each other and shake our heads. "Let's give it some time," Ann says evenly.

I nod as the time on the display ticks to nine p.m.

I open my mouth to ask her to check her phone, but the back window shatters, swallowing my words.

We spin around as the car fills with smoke.

"Ann!" I choke out and watch a wave of darkness close in around us.


	11. Rip Current

**Ch. 11 – Rip Current**

Slowly, the feeling of a nail ghosting down the slope of my nose registers. It's soft and gentle. It's a tactic that my wife will use to wake me up without being obnoxious. The corners of my mouth curl up, but I really just want a few more minutes of sleep.

My hand shoots up and I snatch the wrist attached to the finger and tug. I go to spin us around, intent on using my girl as a pillow…

But, I'm not in my bed…

What the hell?

Beneath me is hard and unforgiving.

My eyes snap open and everything comes rushing back. The accident, the trade, the…gas bomb.

Ugh.

I drop my head to the cold floor beneath me as my temples pulse and throb.

"Annie," Jill whispers gently.

I crack open an eye and wrap my arms around her. I bury my face in the crook of her neck. I press my lips to her jugular. The beat of her heart pulses against my lips. I inhale and smell things I'm not used to smelling on her, things that tell me she's been here for a while and it's not Jill, but underneath those, there's the faintest smell of her vanilla brown sugar lotion that she's worn since before I knew her. That smell will always be Jill's. Her neck is warm and thaws out a part of my chest that I didn't know needed it.

She's alive.

She's alive.

She's alive.

I'd been…

The tears are hot as they leak from the corners of my eyes, but I don't care. She's in my arms. Alive, heart beating, breathing.

"Baby," she says gently, stroking my hair.

"Shhh," I mumble and sniffle. "Just shh, for a minute while I get it together."

She kisses the top of my head and I feel her nod.

I hold on to her for only a few more seconds. I need to see that she's okay, okay. I ignore the throbbing and pull back to give her a look over. I wasn't sure what to expect, the crash was…

It looked brutal. Her face tells me I was right.

Gently, I reach out and tuck a lock of her hair away. It's a little greasy, which happens with her, my girl can be oily, but it's good – it's her. There's also some dried blood caked and matted in the brown locks. The bruising runs from her jaw, over her beautiful cheek to her temple. It disappears into her hairline and I know that she's got a laceration there. I don't move her hair to see. It's matted down and probably helped staunch the blood flow.

I don't want to reopen anything.

I look over her shoulder and see Nora with her back against the wall, whispering quietly to Nikki. Nikki has her back pressed to Nora's front. I look my friend over. Her upper half doesn't look to bad, but as I travel south, her legs are sticking out. I blanche when I see her shin.

"Fuck, Nikki…" I hiss.

Jill presses a finger to my lips and shakes her head.

My friend looks over at me and Nora offers me a weak smile. Nikki looks a little green and hasn't moved.

Christ.

I kiss the tip of Jill's finger and ask around it, "You're okay?"

Jill shrugs. "I feel like my head's five times too big, but comparatively, just peachy, baby. You?"

"Headache, but we got gassed so…" I look back over to Nora and Nikki. "Nor?"

"Same here. We need to get Nikki out of here," she answers.

I motion Jill to give me room and I stand. A wave of vertigo hits. I steady myself by planting my palm flat against the wall. Whatever he used…

What would he have used?

Nothing with lasting effects. At least that's what it feels like…this feels like…

Maybe an aerosolized opioid. Kolokol-1, maybe…he'd have easy access to it.

My legs finally feel steady as I draw in a few deep breaths.

Jill's hand is calming at the small of my back.

Slowly, I make my way over to Nikki and Nora and drop to my knees to better assess the damage.

I start with Nikki's left foot and travel north. The fracture isn't as bad is it could be. Only a few centimeters of her tibia poke through the skin. The soft tissue damage is comparatively minimal for a fracture like this and that is a blessing. Her leg is braced with two thin strips of plywood, athletic wrap and tape.

Nikki – we need to get her to a hospital.

I go back to examining her left leg. I reach out and then stop to hover above her left thigh. It looks like there's cut under the bandage between the splints. The shin's a mess. Blood trickles from the wound. I cut my gaze to the floor and look around. There's a smear in the dirt, black from where she bled and a smaller pool of it a few feet away.

Davison must have done this to stabilize her.

Her left thigh is swollen and bruised. I wonder if she broke her femur too.

"Nikki," I whisper and cup her jaw in my hand. "Sweetie?"

Her eyes flutter open at the sound of my voice. She tries to smile, but…it's a grimace and she closes her eyes again.

"She's been in and out of it," Nora whispers. "We need to get her to the hospital." My friend's voice is thick and urgent. "I think she's got a few busted ribs too."

Nora's good. I don't see any outward damage.

"She does," Jill confirms. "I took a listen to her chest and it's rattley." Jill goes to the other side and kneels down across from me. "I used my t-shirt to stabilize her ribs, but she's pretty bruised up along her right side. After he came in aand dumped you two, he took off the shackles he had her in. It's not like she can move a whole lot."

"You paid attention to Becca," I say proudly. "We'll get her to a hospital soon."

"Well," she shrugs, "It's good to know some emergency triage. Her left thigh is broke. I didn't want to touch her shin. That's going to need surgery."

"What happened to our clothes?" Nora asks.

I look at her and then look down. Both of us are in cutoff grey sweatpants and white tank tops.

"Probably a safe guard for tracking devices," I say not really caring.

It's not like he found one on either of us anyhow.

"What happened to you two?" Nikki mumbles as Nora tightens the hold she has on her partner.

I look at Jill then Nora. She answers, "We got to the crash and the piece of shit said that he'd trade me and Ann for you two. We agreed."

Jill glares at me and I shake my head. "You don't get to be pissed at me for this. We knew what we were doing."

"You knew?" my wife spits. "In case it escaped your attention, babe," she bites off the word. "We are all together and there was no trade."

"True," Nora says, trying to defuse Jill's building explosion. "We have a plan."

Her eyebrows hike at this.

"If he used what I think he did, we've probably been out for at least two hours." I look around our cell.

Dirt floor, solid walls.

I've been in worse situations comparatively.

"Care to share?" Nikki grunts.

"Shhh," Nora coos. "You need to rest."

I run my tongue along the bottom edge of my row of teeth. I stuff my index and thumb into my mouth and feel the cap. I wedge my nail under the seal and pull up. The little piece of plastic pops up and I pinch it between my fingers.

I extract the plastic and hold it up for Jill to see.

Her eyebrow quirks.

"He didn't look everywhere." I set the cap in her hand. She takes the item and turns it between her fingers.

"Is this what I think this is?" she asks studying the cap that was placed over one of my molars.

"I'm confident the Calvary is on the way." I nod. "We just need a little more time."

* * *

Time is impossible to gauge when you're locked up like this. When I was taken hostage on that tanker, my cell was maybe three square feet and I couldn't tell you if it was day or night.

The four of us are in a similar position now.

It's become a waiting game. Nora and Nikki haven't moved much. I don't think they should with Nikki's injuries; she needs to be kept stable.

Jill and I settled next to them. My wife sets between my legs and mirrors Nikki's position. My arms are wrapped around her waist.

"How long do you think it'll take John?" my wife asks, pressing back into me.

"I'm not sure. The game plan was that if contact wasn't made in six hours than we went to Plan B," I whisper.

"Plan B?" she asks, craning her neck back to catch my eyes. "And why six hours?"

"Yeah, activate the GPS in my mouth and come rescue us," I say smiling. "Actually, that's pretty much what we had planned all along. We didn't think he'd give you two up. We wanted to give him time. Let him stew and think that his ridiculous fucking idea worked."

"What?" she snips at me and I laugh.

It's kind of inappropriate to laugh, but I'm relieved and even under the circumstances, happy that at least her and Nikki are alive. It's one of those things, like John doing the cha-cha in the middle of the woods when we were looking for where the first body was found. It's a way to relieve the tension without going completely insane. You either laugh or start crying and one you can stop while the other you're not so sure about…

Like how the idea that I might never get to see that look of hers, the look that tells me I'm on super thin ice and won't be winning her over soon unless I perform a miracle. I didn't want to entertain that thought, or one where I might never be able to hold her again. But…

She's alive and I've never been this happy to be on the receiving end of Bitchy Jilly and I'm happy, as absurd as it may be. I'm happy that I am. "This fucking piece of shit had only one endgame, Jill," I say gently once I've staunched my giggles. "He's all about the suffering. What do you think would cause the most?"

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she gives up trying to come up with an answer.

"He wants to torture us," Nora hisses from next to me. "We figured that he'd renege on the agreement so that he could torture you two or us while everyone watched."

"Fucker's lame," I snip. "Predictable."

"Predictable?" Jill asks a little incredulous.

"Hmm, yep," I answer. "Besides his lame, Hannibal Lecter wanna-be pathetic excuse for a sociopathic ass took you two, his game plan's pretty easy to follow. He'll want to me watch him torturing you. He knows that to break me, he needs to go after the only things that mean anything to me," I remind her gently. "You. Nora. Nikki."

"But John should…" Jill tries to ask, but her question is interrupted by automatic gunfire. The ground shakes and walls rattle as two concussive blasts go off one right after the other.

The jostling causes Nikki to groan from her semi-conscious state.

I grin and say loudly, "Looks like the Calvary is here."

"'Bout damn time," Nora snips. "I swear…"

"You two are fucking nuts," Jill whines. "I've married a psycho."

I shrug. "Nothing to worry about. John's got this." A wave of energy thrums through me or it could be relief.

"You can't…" Jill tries to interject as we listen to the skirmish taking place outside of our cell.

"I can," I say squeezing her around the middle. "He called in reinforcements. There's no way he wouldn't find us." I kiss the side of her head and amend, "It was really just the timing that had me worried."

Heavy footfalls sound outside the door and a voice calls out, "Ann! Jill! Nora! Nikki! You in there?"

My brow furrows…that sounds like…"Becca?" I call out.

"In the flesh, agent," she answers me. "This door's going to be a bitch to get off. Hang tight. Is everyone okay?"

"Mostly," I holler back. "Nikki needs to get to the hospital as soon as you can get us out of here."

"On it," she barks back.

We wait a minute longer and then John yells, "Flemming, you guys need to back away from the door. We're blowing the hinges."

Fuck.

I can't move Nikki.

"Just do it," I holler back at him and motion Jill up. "You go to the back of the cell." I push her back and make my way over to my friends. I crawl around them so that my backs to the door. On all fours, I extend myself and over Nikki's lower half with my body.

Nora shields Nikki's face and tucks her head down.

I do the same and call out, "Go for it!"

The detonation rattles my teeth, dust billows and metal groans.

Nothing hits my back which is a plus, but fuck my ears are ringing.

It distorts everything and muffles any other sounds.

I feel a hand on my back and look up. John and Becca are standing over us. Both of them outfitted in tactical gear. Matching grins on their faces. I've never seen Becca like this. She's always put together, but I've never seen her look this badass. She wears the gear better than John. The flack jacket hugs her, the cargo pants are taught and strapped with enough ammo to take out a small army. She has two guns holstered on the outside of her thighs. The assault rifle dangles from her back and her smile…

Yeah, I can see why John makes it a habit not to piss her off.

"Took you long enough," I snip and stick my tongue out at him.

"He had to fix his hair," Becca jokes and John and I both roll our eyes. "Now out of the way," she shoos me away from Nikki.

I right myself and Becca crouches down to assess the damage.

Jill wraps her arm around my waist and snuggles in.

"Good to see you all," John looks us over.

"Good to be seen," I tell him and go back to watching Becca take Nikki's condition in. John winks at me and the pressure on my chest loosens. My partner is awesome. Scary sometimes, but awesome.

"We would have been here sooner, but it took a little longer finding you guys – you'll need to thank Furlan for that," John whispers. "Also, it seems that Davison was using Addison, who knew what this piece of shit was up to."

"Nora Delaney, right?" Becca asks my friend causing my conversation with John to come to a halt. "Rebecca Malone. I would have preferred to meet you under different circumstances."

Nora snorts. "Me too."

"Okay, John," his wife looks over her shoulder to order him around, "get me a stretcher and board and tell the medics to get their asses down here. I'm going to need an I.V. stat and…" She looks back to Nora and asks, "Do you know her blood type?"

"A positive," Nora answers quickly.

"See if they have any on hand, if not, O will do." She looks back at him and then barks, "Move, Malone!"

That must snap him out of it because before I can offer to go with, he tears out the door.

"Okay, Nora, I'm going to need you to move," Becca directs. "Ann, come around here and help me stabilize our friend."

Jill lets me go and I drop to my knees on the opposite side of Becca. "Nora, gently, I need you to ease up and stand. Can you do that?"

Nora nods and Becca maneuvers all of us so that by the time John and the two E.M.T.'s are with us, Nikki's flat on her back and we're out of the way.

I pull Nora to me and hold on to her from one side while Jill takes up the space on her other side.

"She'll be fine," I insist to my friend. "Becca will get her taken care of." I kiss her temple and feel her shudder. Nikki will be fine.

* * *

The hospital room is silent for the first time in an hour. It's a welcome relief. Over the past forty-eight hours, I've nearly lost the most important people in my life, got gassed, and taken hostage. I'm tired and the small stream of doctors and nurses that I've seen and answered question for has been nearly as exhausting as the forty-eight hours leading up to it.

For now, it's just John, Nora and me.

They took Jill back down to radiology to run a few more tests. Nikki's down there getting fitted for a cast. Her surgery went well, post-op was easy. This is the first time it's just been us and I can't be more thankful.

Looking over at my partner, I get to finally ask, "So how'd it play out?"

John smiles and laces his hands behind his head. "Pretty much like you and Nora called it." He wiggles his eyebrows. "We gave you two until ten and went to your drop point. Frankie wasn't in too bad shape, but he hit you with Kolokol-1. I had it towed to the Bureau lot and it should be like nothing happened before the end of today."

"Do I need to do anything?" Nora asks from her spot on Nikki's bed.

"Nah, we got it covered. From there it was a waiting game. Which was killer, by the way," he says staring at me. "Fucking ever do this shit to me again, Flemming…"

"It worked," I state and mirror his position from my spot on Jill's bed.

"Yeah well, you two took a few years off regardless." He shakes his head and admits, "At first, I thought you were crazy."

"We were," Nora butts in. "It was also the only thing we had going for us. Once Ann and I got a chance to really think about it, we knew he'd never give up the chance to drive it in deeper."

"Asshole," I snip.

"Asshole got three slugs," John lets us know. "One between the eyes and two to the heart for good measure."

"Show off," I mutter.

"Well, torture's frowned down upon, unless you're a P.O.W., so I improvised," John grouses back. "Although, I think I could have had him shipped somewhere. Taken my time." I cock an eyebrow and his face grows…it's nearly giddy. "Hmmm, damn, I missed out. I haven't worked on interrogation tactics in a long while. I haven't had a chance to brush up on some of the newer techniques…" He trails off as the door to the room is pushed all the way open.

I'm glad he did. He worries sometimes.

Jill still looks a little loopy from the pain meds, but my baby's okay. That's the important part. "Hey, babe," I greet her and scramble from her bed.

"Agent," the nurse says as she stops pushing the wheelchair, "your partner is rather persistent."

I snicker. "What did she do?"

The nurse rolls her eyes.

"I was behaving," Jill interrupts our conversation.

"Hmm," I lean down and hum, pecking her on the lips then her nose. "You never behave, Jilly. I know better than to believe that lie."

She sticks her tongue out at me. "Come on, help your wife into bed."

Gladly, I pull her up by her outstretched hands and guide her into bed. As I get her settled and make sure there's enough room for me to rest along her uninjured side, Nikki and Dan come rolling through.

Nora and I exchange a look and quirk an eyebrow each. The team has been in and out just checking up on us. Dan's been absent. Of course after the words exchanged by Nora and him…I shake my head. I'm sure we'll know what's going on soon.

I turn my attention to Nikki instead. Her thigh is cast and there's a brace covering her shin. The brace has bolts anchoring through her skin to hold the bone in place. The open wound has been stitched and closed. Her smile is weak as I meet her tired eyes.

I watch Nora hop up off the bed and go to her much like I did Jill. "Hey you," she says gently.

"Hi, sugga," she croaks. "Look who I found lurking in the hall."

Nora's gaze cuts briefly to Dan before she asks, "You want help into the bed?"

Nikki nods and I get up to help them with getting my friend settled. Nikki's mobility is greatly compromised, but we don't do too bad. She's settled after only some minor jostling.

"You okay?" Dan asks the room at large.

"There something I can help you with, Dan?" Nora annunciates his name clearly, pointedly.

I watch Nikki watch Nora and Dan and then flick my eyes to John. He quirks an eyebrow. My response is a small tweak at the corner of my mouth. I love being on the same page.

"I wanted to come check on you all," he says tentatively.

"We're good." Nora's arms fold across her chest as she leans against the end of the bed.

Dan's gaze scans to each and every one of us before settling back on Nora. His jaw quivers and he grinds his teeth. "I can't take you back."

"Eh?" Nikki says a little dumbly.

Her question's ignored. "I think I was pretty clear," Nora says casually, "when I told you to fuck off and handed you my badge."

"Nora," he tries and runs a hand over his shaved head. "You did this to yourself."

Nora shakes her head. "I did. I'd do it again. I won't ask. I'm done."

He nods. "Nikki, Jill, I'm glad you two are okay." He doesn't stick around for conversation. The door clicks shut behind him and I slump against the bed. Jill rests her head on my shoulder and asks, "What the fuck was that about?"

"I'm no longer with the New Orleans Police Department," Nora answers her and turns to Nikki. "He didn't want me making the trade." Nora gathers her partner's hand and kisses the knuckles. "I'm sorry."

"Shh," Nikki hisses, looks her partner over and then eyes me. I shrug her way. She doesn't say anything, but allows Nora to take her other hand. Nora eases on to the bed and settles against the right side before Nikki finally says, "Probably should have told him I quit too then."


	12. Epilogue How We Bow

A/N: Here we are, the last of this very long and very fun to write A.U. The scenes in this alternate like the chapters did: Nora, Ann, Nikki.

Thanks to those of you that made the journey with me from the beginning. It's been a blast.

* * *

**Epilogue – How We Bow**

The only lights in the bathroom are the candles I lit forty-five minutes ago and Nikki is in the same spot that I left her a half hour ago, reclining in the sunken tub of our getaway bathroom, her left leg propped up and out of the bathwater. The purple cast on the lower half of her leg resting along the edge of the tub atop a folded bath towel.

Her hair is in a messy bun and she hums along to the playlist she put together to help us relax. Without any work until the start of January, you would think that it would be relaxing, but between Nikki's physical therapy, the fallout from our last case and getting everything in order for the New Year, I'm still not sure what the word 'relax' means.

Resignations, paperwork, a few hard good byes and promises that I'm not sure will be kept took up a lot of time. Then dealing with telling my family our plans…that was a pain in the ass, but in the end I think – well, I hope they all understand it's what we need to do.

It's the right thing.

"Hmm, sugga are you gonna stand there and look at me all night or…?" she lets the implication linger. Not bothering to open her eyes or lift her head from the bath pillow she's resting on.

My eyes scan the length of the tub, the suds covering her enough to be considered decent. It's a pity really that I can't see more of her. Of course that would lead to me getting side tracked and I don't want to do that. I need to at least maintain a bit of focus.

"I like the view," I offer instead and sit down on the top step next to the tub. I reach in and tuck a curl of hair away then let my finger travel down the swell of her cheekbone to her jaw. The bruising, cuts and scrapes have long since faded and left me with mostly smooth skin. I won't comment on the lines or two that are there. She's just as beautiful now at thirty-nine as she was when I met her at thirty.

"Well, our time here is up in two days," she reminds me. "Although, I have to say, us coming to the Beaumont estate to get away from civilization was an inspired idea." Her eyes flutter open and she finally looks my way. "Good job, Ms. Delaney." Her lips pucker and I oblige, leaning over to give her the desired peck.

I pull away and see her studying me. "What?" I ask a little unsure of myself. She knows me…she reads me well and right now, I must be giving something away.

Her eyebrow quirks and she retorts, "You tell me."

I press my lips together. There's a lot I want to say to her tonight, but…how I'm going to do this is…"You know, the night before Davison took you and Jill, Ann asked me if I was cheating on you with Dan?"

Her eyes grow large at my admission and then her features darken as she glares.

I hold a hand up and explain, "John walked in on me and Dan having a pretty serious discussion and she asked."

"And what was this discussion about?" she asks, her tone giving away the weight of it. Dan and I haven't talked in nearly two months. I never bothered to tell her about the promotion – it was pretty moot after the dust settled from the Davison case.

"Before, Dan put my name in for a promotion," I finally admit to her. "I needed to give him a 'yes' or a 'no' if I was going to accept it…"

"You what?" she barks at me.

"I was being offered a Lieutenants position inside robbery-homicide, but I never really did give him an answer…or well," I take her hand to try to smooth things over. "I did, but it wasn't the one I was going to give him."

She sucks her teeth and continues to glare at me. "What answer where you going to give him?"

I pull in a deep lungful of air and breathe out, "Well, see that kind of depended on a few things."

"Such as?"

"Well, uhm," I lick my lips, "see…we've…I mean our lives aren't independent of the other, we're a team and I wasn't going to make that decision without input from you."

The smile dies as quickly as it appears and she goes back to scowling at me.

I adjust my position next to the tub, opting to rest on my knees and settle onto my calves. "We've been partners for nearly nine years, Nikki, together, romantically, for nearly as long…"

"Actually, it took me five months, sixteen days, fourteen hours and approximately twenty-three minutes to coax you into my bed, lover," she informs with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"You can't possibly know that," I reply with an incredulous laugh.

"Hah-ah," she sticks her pointer finger up. "Dan introduced us at nine a.m. on the fifth. We left Phantoms and got to my apartment a little after eleven-twenty at night on the twenty-first of August. Do the math, Nora dear," she replies smugly.

I do the count in my head from March to August and the time…she's right.

My bark of laughter echoes off the tiled walls. Her chuckle follows allowing me a moment to sober up. "Oh-kay, well then, what I'm trying to say is that we've been together a while, the whole of our thirties and I was confident a year in that it was you that was going to be sharing my bed with for as long as you'd have me."

"A year? It took you that long?" she goads me.

I don't take the bait. "Yes. I won't say anything about it being sooner, you'll just make fun, but hush. We've been through a lot, Nikki."

"Understatement of the decade!" she ribs me and sticks her tongue out in a way I usually find cute.

It still is, but it's not going to deter me. I roll my eyes instead. "Yes, well, I think we've both admitted to having the market cornered on being stubborn and occasionally hot tempered."

"That's true," she grins and runs the pad of her thumb over my palm. "And we're going to be going through a lot more in the coming months."

I nod. "So, that promotion was going to help us, help me, I guess in giving you what I couldn't before…"

"Which would be?" she cuts me off.

"I…more stability…"

"You mean a bigger pay check," she tuts.

I blush. "Yes," I admit.

"You're an ass if you think that's what I want from us – from you," she pokes at me, her tone's light, which stops the initial flare of annoyance.

I sigh instead. "Ann pointed that out to me when she asked me about Dan."

"Remind me to thank her in the morning." Nikki grins. "But I'm not going near their bedroom until then. I nearly rolled in on them twice already. Having to use that damn wheel chair's a pain in my ass."

"It happens," I snicker. "So right, promotion, quit distracting me. So Ann busted me out and there wasn't a whole lot of time to think after that, but there has been some time recently and I've thought and it made me remember an ass chewing from my mom."

"And what was this 'ass chewing' about?"

"Well, it boiled down to me being raised right and honoring the values I was brought up with. I mean I've always been a little slow when it comes to how I feel and getting over myself. So…since it's your…" I lick my lips and fish the box out of my pajama pockets with my dry hand, "since the love of my life isn't getting any younger as evidenced by the birthday celebration we had tonight, I wanted to give you your present." I rise up and present her the box I've been keeping for nearly six months.

Recognition ripples across her beautiful face as she looks the box over. I know I'll remember the look she's giving me forever.

"Uh, I've talked to your daddy already, I got an earful for this by the way, but I wanted to do it right, because you know me and this will be the only time I'll admit to you that I'm a traditional romantic. I love you, Nikki. I love who you are and what you do and what you've driven me to become, a better person. Open, more honest."

My heart stutters and I try to remember how to breathe. "The word 'wife' implies a promise, as my mother reminded me, it's a promise between the two of us to keep each other first above all else in our lives. While I've tried to do that with you, I want it to be official. I want everyone to know and not to question. I want to be able to introduce you as my wife and be introduced as yours."

The hand that was holding mine reaches out to cup my cheek and brush away a tear that leaked out. The water on her hand absorbs it and I continue, "So, will you, uh…will you marry me?"

Her chin quivers as she nods.

Her answer releases a held breath and weight from my shoulders. Water be damned, I pluck the ring from the box. She presents me her left hand and I slip the new piece of jewelry on to her finger.

She pulls her hand away and admires the ring. "You've out did yourself, Nora." She doesn't look away from the ring, but I watch the diamond refract the light and bounce off of her. "Hmm, and here I'd given up ever having one of these," she teases me and her eyebrows dance under her bangs. "It's beautiful, Nora."

"You deserve it, baby," I tell her as earnestly as I can.

I lean over to kiss her when an arm snakes around my waist. She pulls me into the tub, clothes and all, laughing and kissing me wherever her lips can reach.

* * *

The door to our bedroom squeaks open causing me to look up from the pile of paperwork I need to finish up with before tomorrow. Nora starts with our team and I've been writing consults that have been piling up for the past two weeks.

I can't wait for Nora to start.

Lucy and Travis are usually loaned out if we aren't working the cases ourselves which leaves John and myself to handle the lion's share of the paperwork. Nora will give us another full-time body and when Nikki comes on board, she'll be part-time.

Life will be lots easier.

As it is, our bed has a few file folders scattered around and my lap top is open and next to me. Jill makes sure the doors shut before she bounces over to me. The smile on her face has been present for the past few days and I have to know, "You're not planning on stopping anytime soon are you?" I wiggle my pointer finger at her.

She crawls up from the end of the bed, tossing the folders on the floor as she ascends. She shakes her head. "What's not to be happy about?"

I roll my eyes to the ceiling and think. "I go back to work tomorrow or uhm, you start a new job tomorrow?"

She straddles my shins, reaches out and closes the computer before setting it on the floor. Turning back to me, she settles on my lap. Biting her lower lip, my wife shakes her head. "There's way too much good there and in the room down the hall and…" a fingertip is dragged down the bridge of my nose, over my lips, chin and down my neck to hook in the top of my tank top, "right here." She leans over and looks down my shirt. "I'm happy."

"Pervert," I tease her as she lets my tank top go. It snaps back in place and she pushes the hem of it up so she can run her hands along my stomach, her non-existent nails scratching along my flanks and down to settle on my hips.

"I am. More specifically, I'm pervy for you which," she punctuates with a pinch to my side; "you should love and exploit."

"Is that so?" I ask and lean up to nip at her chin.

Her hips press into me freeing a groan from my lips. I should be exhausted. I am, for the most part. Getting Nikki and Nora settled all the way into the house this week and gearing up to have them at work has been taxing.

Totally worth it, but there's just been a lot to do.

"Well," she hums and begins to plant feather light kisses across my cheeks and around my face. "We have our family, all of them, around us now. We get to see them regularly…"

"Because they live with us…" I remind her.

"Yes and as much as you would think that may bug me, I love the idea. Having Nikki to help with the non-profit and foundation and then having Nora with you at work…I love John, but Nora will take care of you better at work."

I pull back and snicker. "You're just saying that because she won't let me go off all half cocked and work myself to an early grave."

Her lips purse and she squints at me. "Not to put too fine a point on it, wifey, but your damn straight she won't. Nikki'll kill her if she pulls that shit."

"Nikki will be working with us too, y'know?" I remind her and then nibble her left earlobe.

Her hands come up and cup my breast, toying with my nipples under my shirt as she answers, "Only part time. She's with me the other part." Her moan mingles with mine as I rock up into her.

"Just admit it, Annie, I've now got eyes and ears everywhere." She runs her lips across my jaw and hisses, "I fucking own your ass. You can't get away from me."

I don't answer right away and instead, pull her t-shirt over her head. Licking my lips, I lean down and lick a trail from the valley between her breasts and up her neck. "Did you just now figure that out?" I murmur against heating flesh.

"I'm a little slow sometimes," she jokes. "And you are wearing far too many articles of clothing, baby."

I laugh and shake my head. "Fix it," I challenge her.

Really it's not much of a challenge. Her hands are at my hips and tugging at my shorts before I finish annunciating the 't'. She maneuvers them off me and tackles the hem of my tank top, ripping it off over my head.

She goes to settle back on me and I stop her. "Ah-ah, I'm not the only one that'll be nekkid here."

Her pants drop to the floor and she settles her long legs back over me, sliding her dampened center up my thighs.

"Can I get it in writing?" she asks, draping her arms over my shoulders and linking her hands behind my head.

I watch her lean back and undulate against me. "Get what?" I wonder a little distracted by her rolling hips.

"That I own you?" she pants and rocks forward.

"Uh…" I lick my dry lips and just nod. "I'm good with that."

She giggles. Her laughter is light, musical. It soothes me in a way I didn't know needed soothing.

Her hips still and she sobers to catch my eye. "Hey," I whine, "I was enjoying the show."

"Don't pout," she warns and taps the tip of my nose. "I love you."

I nod. "I know. We've covered that." I smirk back at her and she swats my shoulder.

"Ass," she pouts now.

"Tease." I grin at her.

Rolling her eyes and her hips, she leans down and captures my lips.

Groaning, I flip us over and rock down onto her center. "My ass loves you too. Now," I pant as I brace my arms next to her head and settle the lower half of my body between her thighs. I hold her gaze and manage to sober up as I say, "Now, do your toy a favor and fuck me."

Her eyes light up and she says with just as much seriousness, "Why Mrs. Flemming, I thought you'd never ask."

Unable to keep it up, I collapse on top of her. We roll around tangling our legs together as her laugh fills the room.

Paperwork can be done tomorrow.

* * *

Jill drums her fingers along the countertop as she looks over the cookbook. Not bothering to look up from the text, she grumps, "I think that if we're keeping the living arrangements as is, we're going to need to learn how to cook."

"Oh, sugga," I purr and bump her hip, "It may just be a lost cause where we're concerned."

She looks up at me from over the top of her glasses and grins. "Well, I mean, you know I tried to burn the house down, Ann can, but the three of you get home at ungodly hours sometimes…"

The handle of the cane I'm using for the next six weeks digs into my palm as I shuffle back and rest against the sink. "So, that means, at least what I'm hearing, is that it's not a 'we' that need to learn to cook, it's a 'you'."

Her eyes narrow and she sucks her teeth at me. "And you, until you're done with that cane. Don't think you're getting out of this, Nikki. I need supervision."

The laugh shakes my entire upper body and I tease her, "No truer words were ever spoken."

She rolls her eyes and saddles up next to me.

"And if the builders will hurry their ass up, we may be out of your hair by July," I tell her. We've all discussed the living arrangements and Nora and I were going to get an apartment, but then Jill, with her crazy ideas, just said to stay in our bedroom that we have here until the house is built next door.

It was the best option. We wanted space, a yard and Jill wanted neighbors. All the licensing has been done and the construction crew hired. They just need to wait for it to get a decent temperature for construction to begin. January in Virginia is cold and frozen and I'm not sure if I like it.

"Hmm, well, you two could live here permanently," Jill informs as she lays her head on my shoulder. "It's good having you two around."

"We've been here a month. Sugga, we're still in the honeymoon phase." I wink at her. "We'll see how you feel when the family comes to visit. Daddy's already talking coming up here and it's barely been a month. Oh, and Nancy…I swear once we announced the engagement, she's like a dog with a bone." It's been amazing for the most part, but Nancy wants to set dates and she wants to invite more family than I think Nora knew she had. Daddy's almost as bad.

I'm not even sure when this is all supposed to happen. Nora says that she'd like it in the spring, but that's not far off and I'm half tempted to fly everyone to Massachusetts for a weekend and do this at the justice of the peace. It would be easier. Although, I have expressed an interest in having our wedding day be on our anniversary day. Nora says that's cheating and laziness because I don't want to remember another anniversary.

She's right and while that's true, it would be easier. I'm also far more comfortable with a small affair.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Jill interrupts a half formed idea.

I purse my lips. "The wedding."

"Hmm…yeah, good luck with that," Jill says patting my leg. "You're happy though, about the proposal and the…? Nora was a damn nightmare when we were picking that thing out."

"Love the ring and I can imagine." I look down at my left hand. I'm still not used to seeing it there.

"She'll love hers too," Jill says with a sly smile.

"Well, I hope so. If I'm stuck wearing one, she damn well should have to, too." I smile and pat my left pocket. The box containing said ring creates a small bulge. Knowing she wouldn't be comfortable with the one and a half carat monster she got me, I went for a simple classic design that hopefully, she'll love.

I look down at my left hand to admire the ring again. God love that women and her exquisite taste. "And yes, I'm happy, ecstatic, over the moon. All the girly emotions associated with being engaged." And it's true, I am. I never expected her to do this…although; I should have at some point. She's made a habit out of catching me off guard.

"We still need to decide dinner. What are we doing for your fiancé's birthday dinner?" Jill brings the conversation back around to our original quandary.

"Hmm," I tap my "We should just go out. We can get all prettied up and go to D.C?"

"Oh, there's this new restaurant that opened up in November that I've wanted to try." We both glance at the time displayed on the oven. Jill crooks her finger at me and we head towards the living room.

The T.V.'s on and Nora and Ann are sitting on the couch shoulder to shoulder reading over a file they brought home. It strikes me how much I miss being at work. I won't be released for another six weeks, if I'm lucky, and John won't even let me fill in with desk work.

"Hey, wifey one and wifey two," Jill interrupts them. "We're going out." She claps her hands and motions them both up.

Nora's head turns my way and I hold out my hand. "Come on; come help your crippled fiancé get ready."

She smirks but takes my outstretched out hand.

"Where we going?" she husks as she presses against me.

A shiver runs down my spine in response to her tone. "Out. Someone's being spoiled."

Ann and Jill scurry from the room and I tug Nora along to follow them down the hall. Nora's behind me as she rests her hand on my hip, guiding my limping form.

The cane helps, but I'll be very, very, very glad when my leg's healed. It's the last piece of the clean up from September. Everything else…work, home, Nora…we're so good and things look better than they ever have. Jen and Jill are starting up a branch of the Tilton Foundation here. Jill's new project and hopefully, her last career shift. I'll be able to help them there and work part time at the Bureau with Nora and the rest of the team…

I get the best of both worlds.

I have one final thing to do.

Nora's hand travels further south as we hit our bedroom door.

I think I can take care of that now though…

"Hey," Ann's head pokes out of her own door at the other end of the hall, "Keep it PG-13 ladies. I don't want to have to turn the hose on you two." She wiggles her eyebrows at us and ducks her head back inside before me or Nora can comment.

"She's worse than a teenager," Nora grumps.

"Hello pot," I tease and manage a semi-graceful spin in her direction as she shuts the door.

I land with a soft thump at the end of the bed and crook a finger at Nora. She stopped just inside as the door shut.

Her head tilts to the side as I beckon her further. I watch her tongue poke out and run along her bottom lip. I narrow my eyes. "I'll have plans for that tongue later, Nora Marie," I purr, "but for now, come here."

Her approach is slow, deliberate, with a little more sway in those hips than she normally uses. My flush is involuntary. I take her hands and direct her in front of me. Tapping the back of her knee, I direct her down and on to them. "Nikki?" she questions and I press a finger to her lips.

"Now…" My voice is a little deeper, softer as I explain, "Traditionally, I'm supposed to be on my knees, but," I wave a hand at my braced shin, "that's not really going to happen and since it is your birthday now," I tap the tip of her nose with my index finger as I reach into my pocket to fish out the box, "I wanted to give you your birthday present."

She zeros in on the box emerging from my pocket and I say, "I'm not as good as you with romance, Nora, I know that, but I thought it only fair that you get your own engagement ring." I open the top and reveal the ring I purchased the weekend after my birthday and engagement. "You know how I get sometimes. Just like people will know when they see my ring, I want them to know that you, sugga, are all sortsa spoken for and I don't mind unloading a clip or two to prove it."

Her smile is bright and infectious.

So, I lean in and rest my forehead against hers, "With all that in mind…marry me?" I feel the nod of her head and puff of breath she exhales against my lips.

I take the ring out and cradle her left hand in mine. I break away to kiss my way up to the back of her left ring finger before slipping the new piece of jewelry on. I look up and she's all watery eyed, but her hand reaches out and wipes at my cheek then cups my chin. "Love you, Beaumont." She pecks my lips.

"Hmm, love you too, Delaney. Although, now's a good a time as any…" I mumble against her lips. "Who is taking whose last name?"


End file.
